Keiko was taking longer than he anticipated, which was probably a good sign. He suspected that if Mori had invited her in order to give her a final rejection, Keiko would have been back already, and in tears. Unless she went to the Seventh Path again. Or did something drastic. In retrospect, they should have pushed harder for permission to escort her.
There was the sound of a door opening. Hazō leapt up.
"Keiko? How did it go? Are you OK?"
"Yes," Keiko said woodenly.
"You don't sound OK."
"After the disorientation of the initial event, the information available to my brain has finally filtered through to my heart—which, being a feeble and dysfunctional organ at the best of times, is struggling to cope. Please do not be alarmed if at some point today you find me spontaneously bursting into tears.
"Although in that event I may find it necessary to silence you as a witness," she added thoughtfully, "in which case perhaps you should be alarmed after all."
"So... everything is back to normal?"
Keiko nodded. "Fear not. The odds are in your favour, since at this moment I feel whatever is the opposite of homicidal towards you."
Her voice warmed a little. "Your clumsy blundering in some way prompted Ami to re-evaluate the situation, and she has ceased to distance herself from me. I would hug you if the idea were not viscerally repellent."
"That bad, huh?"
"Like inviting giant millipedes to crawl all over my body. In addition, I have issues regarding physical contact."
"Very funny. So what on earth made her do something so crazy?"
"The details are unimportant. What matters is that her reasoning was entirely rational and ultimately focused on my well-being, and that the apparent severing of ties was not in itself my fault. It is deeply regrettable that we have only reached this understanding now, when I am about to leave Mist and must thus busy myself with final preparations instead of spending entire days in her company."
Gōketsu Keiko refuses to provide information that might conceivably put her sister in a bad light, while simultaneously justifying clearly terrible decisions on said sister's part. Never mind. He wouldn't ruin her good mood with common sense.
"What are these final preparations?" Hazō asked.
"If I can find Anna, I believe I have some words for her on the subject of rebuilding relationships. Beyond that, I am entirely at your disposal. You have assisted me with my unresolved business in Mist—it is only fair for me to assist with yours.
"Additionally, Ami requested that I inform you she now owes you a favour. This is a great power, and I fear for the future of this world should you misuse it. In other words, it can be filed next to most of your sealing ideas."
Hazō laughed.
"Now, Hazō, provide me with a plan to optimise. We have work to do."
Chapter 254: The Gōketsu Merchant Empire's Very First and Tiniest Baby Step
"'Required' would be a strong word," Hazō said defensively. "You were excited about the idea back at the inn."
"I was not."
"You absolutely were! You 'found the idea of a personal intelligence network intriguing' and 'felt that acquiring novel revenue streams for the clan to be a good use of our efforts.'"
"'Intriguing' and 'good use of our efforts' are quite far from 'excited'."
Hazō blew a raspberry at his grumblypuss sister. "From you, that's the same as jumping up and down and waving your arms."
A freshly-dunked cat could not have appeared more disgusted. "It is not."
"We're here," Noburi said, cutting the debate short by opening the door of the scribist and gesturing the others inside.
Higashino Arata, their once and current ANBU escort, beat Keiko in the race to enter first; clearly, he was more motivated by his need to protect the Hokage's children than she was by her desire to be out of the crowded streets. He paused in the doorway, blocking the entrance in order to visually sweep for threats. Hazō noted the behavior and gave the man a mental checkmark for dedication; the normal ninja instinct and training was to immediately step out of a doorway so as not to be backlit. Standing there essentially made him a target, but also kept his body between his charges and any potential attacker inside the store.
The moment passed and Higashino entered, Keiko following as close on his heels as she could bear. Yes, the boys and Higashino had been keeping a bubble of space open around her as they passed through the crowded streets, but it was like an insectophobe walking across a room that was seething with cockroaches; the fact that the creatures moved slightly out of the way of one's steps did not make the experience less stressful. The inside of the store was mercifully empty but for the counterman (presumably the owner) and three customers. The latter vacated the premises the moment Higashino turned his eye on them, leaving all the scrolls they had been perusing on the floor instead of taking the time to re-shelve or purchase them.
The proprietor was a man on the downhill side of 'mature' but not yet into 'elderly'. His hair, what was left of it, still had a few flecks of pepper among the salt and life had carved wrinkles deeply into his round-cheeked face. "Welcome," he said nervously. "My name is Rai Yasuo. How may I help you, honored ninja sirs and madam?"
"We're looking for a copy of Akatsuki's book," Hazō said. There had been discussion about whether or not to sugar-coat the question or dance around it, but the final decision had been to simply be forthright as long as there was no one else around. "Do you know the one I mean?"
"Uh, I mean...sir, I've heard rumors that the terrorist organization you mentioned had published some sort of manifesto, but I don't know that I believe them. I've never seen a copy, or met anyone who had. I certainly wouldn't have such a thing in my shop. I'm terribly sorry, sir. Please don't be angry."
Hazō leaned hard on the Iron Nerve to keep any trace of frustration off his face and offer only a friendly smile. "No worries," he said. "It's not important. You said you don't know of anyone who has seen it, but is there anyone that might have and you don't know one way or the other?"
Behind him, Noburi snorted softly. Hazō ignored him with the ease and grace of long practice.
The proprietor's eyes shifted nervously from Hazō to the towering and horrifically ugly Higashino. "I'm, I'm very sorry sir. I would tell you if I knew, truly. It's not a— I mean, isn't it— That is—"
"It's fine," Higashino said calmly. "Lady, gentlemen, if there's nothing else...?"
Hazō allowed his face to reflect his actual feelings of disappointment. "Rats, I was really hoping to find that. Still, there's one other thing: trade."
Higashino took a deep breath and let it out in the slow and careful sigh of frustrated parents and bodyguards everywhere when faced with willful charges. "Sir, we are quite pressed for time. Lord Hokage wanted to see the three of you this morning, and the sun is halfway up already."
"It'll be quick," Hazō promised. He turned back to the proprietor. "My name is Gōketsu Hazō. I'm the adopted son of Lord Hokage Jiraiya of the Legendary Three, who has been negotiating trade and international relations with my aunt, the Mizukage. We're trying to support him in that by negotiating to have merchants and entertainers come to Leaf. The more trade the less war, as the Sage said." Well, probably. The Sage had said so many things that it was pretty safe to attribute anything to him.
"Sir, I write for the illiterate, keep accounts for the innumerate, and sell scrolls, manuscripts, and writing supplies. I'm sure that for a ninja such as yourself the trip to Fire Country is brief and safe, but for an elderly person such as myself...."
Hazō waved dismissively. "We'll provide a ninja escort at our expense, plus storage scrolls to transport your stuff. You can keep the scrolls."
The proprietor's eyebrows went up. "That is a very generous offer, sir. Still, I'm not sure it's worth it for either of us. Business here is good enough that I don't need extra market, and the trip really is dangerous and exhausting. Plus, I can't see why my products would command enough of a premium in Leaf to be worth the travel."
"Don't sell yourself short," Noburi said, studying one of the sheets of paper that had been set out for display. "I've never seen paper this good. Leaf has a huge demand for seal-quality paper"—he grinned—"especially now that we're there."
"More relevantly," Keiko said, "Leaf has a printing press. You could sell some of your paper there, but you would do better to treat Leaf as the source of product, not the target market. Buy there, sell here."
Puzzled frown. "What is a...'printing press'?"
"A machine for making books. Here." She set down the seal she'd had ready to hand and unsealed a small wooden box.
Rai hesitantly opened the box and looked inside. His jaw dropped and he stared in wonder before carefully wiping his hands on his pants and lifting out the contents: a dozen books. He turned through the pages of each, taking great care not to mar them in the slightest way.
"Three separate books, four identical copies of each," he said in awe. "The penmanship is inelegant, there is no illumination nor marginalia, yet the words are crisp and easily legible. And identical between the copies. How is this possible?"
"As I said, a machine," Keiko said, smiling in recognition of a fellow biblioworshiper. "It takes a great deal of time to prepare a book for printing, but once the preparations are done it can be copied very quickly and very cheaply. Until now the books have been barred from export, but I convinced the Hokage to rescind the ban. Each one needs to be vetted by the intelligence department before it can be sold outside of Leaf but once that is done the Nara are allowed to sell as much as they want. We intend to take a percentage for arranging distribution."
Rai wiped a drop of saliva from his lip and replaced the books gently in their box before, with the greatest regret, pushing the box back towards Keiko. "Mistress, that is—"
"Pardon me," she said, pushing the box back. "I should have been clear that these are free samples. After all, you will need to verify the market before the trip would be worthwhile."
Hazō could see white all the way around Rai's eyes. "Free...? But...."
"Free," she said, giving him a smile far kinder than any Hazō had ever seen her use before. "With our pleasure. Do you think you could be ready to leave for Leaf a month from today?"
"Yes! Yes, absolutely! I will—" He pulled himself up short. "Wait. I'm sorry, but I have to ask. How much do these books cost in Leaf? What sort of supply is there? What sort of documentation will I need in order to enter and trade? Will I be permitted to stay within the walls? Will Mist ryō be accepted?"
Keiko laughed.
It was a small laugh, more of a mini-chuckle, gentle and kindly meant, yet it shook Hazō and Noburi's fundamental assumptions about reality enough that both of them felt the need to use the Dispelling technique. Twice.
"Cost of living in Leaf is not that different from what it is here. I will personally ensure that you can exchange Mist ryō for Leaf ryō at a reasonable rate or, failing that, I will stand warden for a line of credit. Books are in sufficient supply that you will be able to buy enough to make the trip profitable. The price of books in Leaf varies widely—"
Rai's face fell like a stone.
"—but the range is somewhere between one hundred and two thousand ryō."
Rai's face lit with joy.
"I can be packed in ten minutes," he said. "Although...I'll need to go to the goldsmith to retrieve more ryō if I'm to make a significant purchase. Can you spare two hours? Perhaps only one if I hurry. No, wait, I'll need to arrange for my sister to mind the shop and the house while I'm gone. I'm sorry for the delay, but—"
Noburi chuckled and raised his hands in self-defense. "It's all good. We didn't intend for you to leave right now. Would a month from today be okay?"
A child whose toy had been snatched away could not have seemed sadder. "Yes, of course. A month will be fine. Thank you so much for this opportunity, sir."
"It can be arranged sooner, if you wish," Keiko offered kindly.
Happiness restored! "Yes! That would be lovely! Um...two, maybe three days? That should be enough for me to arrange everything. Is that too soon? I can wait longer. It's probably too soon. I'm sorry, how long would—"
"Three days will be fine," Keiko said firmly. "Jiraiya may still be here at that time, in which case you could return with the rest of the Leaf contingent. Failing that, I will arrange for two of the Leaf ninja to remain and serve as your escorts." She hesitated. "In the unlikely event that that cannot be arranged, I will hire two Mist ninja to escort you, if that's acceptable?"
"Yes, absolutely! Thank you so much, this is wonderful. I'm so grateful, I can't even...." He trailed off, gesturing helplessly.
"Will you be able to make the trip on foot or would you prefer a wagon? Your baggage, and your goods, will all be in storage scrolls, so volume and weight are not factors."
The old man hesitated. "I confess that walking long distance has become more difficult over the years, especially since the joint-freeze took me. I don't wish to impose, but if it weren't too much trouble...?"
"It is no trouble," Keiko said. "I will notify your escorts."
"Thank you, thank you, thank you," the old man said bowing deeply. "You are most generous. May the Sage's blessings rain upon you. If ever I can do anything for you, you have but to ask."
"Actually," Noburi said. "How would you feel about a joint venture?"
"A...joint venture?"
"Yeah. We'll arrange introduction for you with the Nara and hopefully favored-partner prices. We'll buy some books with our money and give them to you. You sell them for the best price you can get and we split the profits—the profits, not the gross—fifty-fifty."
Rai seemed utterly confused, but he shrugged. "I have no objection, although I confess I don't see why that would appeal to you. You'd be taking all the risk."
"We aren't booksellers," Hazō pointed out. "Or even merchants. We don't know what's likely to sell, where to market it, or how to get the best prices. You'd be doing all the leg work, we'd just be putting up cash. If anything, fifty-fifty is a little hard on you." A thought struck him. "Oh, idea that might or might not make sense: Bring a manuscript, or some written work, and we could maybe get it typeset so that you can get copies of it. They won't be identical to the original—it'll be just the text, not illustrations or marginalia or whatever, and the writing won't match the original, but the words will be the same."
Rai's eyes went wide and slightly glassy as dreams of impossible wealth almost visibly danced through his head. It took several seconds to shake loose from the dream, but then he laughed. "I think this is going to be the beginnings of a wonderful relationship. May I offer you tea while we discuss details? I believe I also have some cookies."
Hazō perked up. "Cookies? What kind of cookies?"
o-o-o-o
The bell above the door jingled as Higashino entered, Hazō hot on his heels.
"Good morning! Welcome to the shop of Saito Asahi, purveyor of mysteries and exotica! Which of your problems may I solve today?"
Saito, assuming this was he, was enormous. Only slightly shorter than Captain Momoichi, he was perhaps even wider in the shoulders and deeper in the chest. Said chest was bare except for a diagonal leather harness that held a collection of daggers and a small hatchet. His hair was shoulder-length, black as night, silky, and restrained with a rawhide thong with only a few strands that had escaped, almost certainly artfully.
He could not have been punching the 'barbarian hero of a lost age' image harder without actually wearing a sign. Hazō had to give the man props for commitment to his role; it was the very end of December in the freezing Land of Water and Hazō could see his breath, so going bare-chested had to be unpleasant...unless, of course, Saito had a small heater behind the counter, which seemed pretty likely now that he thought of it. His surroundings certainly played to the image. The shop walls were lined with a pair of crossed swords, a boar spear with feathers just behind the crossguard, four different mounted heads of various wildly toothy animals that Hazō couldn't identify, a variety of charcoal or ink drawings of battle scenes that featured Saito himself, and a lock of golden hair glued to a piece of vellum with a shockingly red lip-print above it. The display cases were filled with spices, glittering stones, eggs of unusual size and color, dust, scales, hair, roots, leaves, and a bewildering assortment of bottles and jars.
"Excuse me, are you Saito?" Hazō asked, just to be sure.
"That I am, that I am!" the giant boomed, smiling widely and spreading his arms. "Saito the Brave, hunter and trapper! Bard and bargainer, harvester and healer! Purveyor of spices and secrets, gems and jewels, mysteries and miracles! Far-traveler, explorer, storied hero, rescuer of damsels from lost tribes, and teller of tales and histories gathered from the farthest-flung corners of the earth! How may I help you, young ninja? A love potion to capture the eye of a fair lady? I've just the thing—three parts heartdarter seed, one part elixir of peacock feather, and one part that I shall not name, all in a base of the finest mead of Wind Country! Or perhaps you would care for a strengthening elixir? Mighty ninja you surely are and thus stronger already than any mere human, yet still there are gradations of strength among you, yes? Who would not wish for greater power to secure their life and the success of their mission in a profession as dangerous and important as your own? Or perhaps—"
"Actually," Hazō said, cutting quickly into what seemed like a well-rehearsed sales pitch of perhaps problematic length even as he tried to reassure himself that a 'heartdarter' (whatever that might be) was, absolutely and without question, a plant. "What I would like is for you to bring your wares to Leaf."
Saito blinked in shock.
"I'm sorry, I think I misheard you," he said, in a much more normal tone than his earlier heroic voice. "Did you say you wanted me to travel to Leaf?"
"Yes," Hazō said, nodding. "Is that a problem? You are Saito Asahi, far-traveler and explorer, right?"
Saito said nothing for a moment, clearly still stunned. After a moment he visibly shook himself out of it and grinned, revealing a mouth with only three missing teeth. "Of course!" he boomed. "Far-traveler, explorer, rescuer, savior, and hero! I am merely surprised at the idea of being invited to the storied Village Hidden in the Leaves. If you will forgive my clumsy and forthright words, relations between our nations have always been a bit...strained."
"We would like to fix that," Hazō said, ignoring Keiko's mumbled-yet-perfectly-audible 'You would like to fix that'. "Let me start over. My name is Gōketsu Hazō. I'm the adopted son of Lord Hokage Jiraiya of the Legendary Three, who has been negotiating trade and international relations with my aunt, the Mizukage. He—"
"Son of the Hokage, nephew of the Mizukage, and a ninja besides! Sage's grace, I find myself in the company of heroes that barely need a razor yet stand already at my side, and will undoubtedly soon surpass me! You honor this humble wanderer, young master!"
Hazō nonplussed. "Yes, well, thank you. Look, we want to support Jiraiya in creating closer ties between Mist and Leaf, so we're trying to arrange writs of patronage and/or favored trade deals for merchants and performers. You're a very successful merchant"—he gestured around at the spacious store with the vermillion-and-gold-leaf sign in one of the wealthier districts of the city. "We'd like you to travel to Leaf with a collection of trade goods. We can provide a ninja escort, storage scrolls to carry your goods, and introductions in the city. In return you agree to provide discounts to the Gōketsu and our allies."
Saito considered that. "Storage scrolls, you say? How many?"
Hazō shrugged; it wasn't really something he'd thought about. "I dunno. Would two dozen be enough? Each one will hold about as much as you weigh, as long as it fits into a space roughly this by this." He gestured with his hands to convey the volume restrictions.
"Hm," Saito said, frowning. "Well, I would need to select my wares carefully in order to fit in such restricted space...."
Hazō rolled his eyes. "Fine, make it fifty scrolls. And yes, you can keep them. In return you agree that the Gōketsu and our allies get right of first refusal on everything you sell, as well as a fifty percent discount."
"Fifty percent! Young master, would you beggar me?! Mighty Saito already offers the fairest prices in Water Country, selling for barely a fraction of what his goods are truly worth because of my duty to my countrymen!"
"And your base prices shall remain the same in Leaf," Keiko said firmly. "At least so far as the Gōketsu and our allies are concerned. We will take a listing of your wares and prices with us today and you will sell to us for fifty percent of those numbers. You may charge whatever you wish to others."
Saito's grin spread wider. "As sharp at bargaining as your blades at war! Yet more heroes among us—or, indeed, heroines! Mistress Gōketsu, I watched your tournament matches with great interest. Truly, for your age you are a warrior without peer! The one and only time I have seen a weapons mistress more dangerous than you was Selmora, princess of the Amazons in the farthest reaches of the forgotten lands east of Demon! She was twice your age, yet still a striking beauty!" His eyes grew wistful. "Ah, the joy of the hunt, her at my side as we slaughtered our way through the fell beasts of the mountains! The joys of the bedroom, as we lay together in passion at night! The—"
"Back on the actual subject," Noburi said. "There's a good offer on the table. Do you want it or not? We've got more stops to make."
"Offer? Honored ninja, your presence graces this humble warrior, but I admit to being confused. I heard no offer, merely some suggested travel arrangements and then a requirement that my wares all be offered at prices that will penury me."
Noburi looked disgusted. "Fifty storage scrolls and a ninja escort that you don't have to pay for, plus a fresh market. That's a hell of an offer." He glanced disapprovingly at Hazō. "Better than I would have made, O twit of a brother. Maybe next time you'll let me do the negotiating, just so we don't get completely skinned?"
Hazō shrugged unrepentantly. Storage scrolls might be costly items for the average person, but for a sealmaster they were much like a snack—you made a few each day and didn't really think about it. Sure, they wore out after a while, but they lasted long enough that it was easy to build up a stockpile. He was carrying fifty of the things on his person right now, one of which was full of the dirty socks and underwear that he hadn't gotten around to dropping off at the washerwoman's. And that fifty didn't even include the macerators, which were nothing but weaponized storage seals. Making fifty more for Saito was the work of an evening.
"I freely admit that my heart leaps at the idea of travelling to the one part of the world my feet have never trod. Still, as it stands I would have no choice but to refuse, albeit with the greatest regret and thanks for your generosity. A fifty percent discount is more than I could sustain, especially."
"You are only required to give that to the Gōketsu and our allies," Keiko said. "You may gouge the rest of Leaf as much as you desire." A thoroughly creepy smile crawled slowly across her face and she added, "Should you choose to charge a special premium to the Hyūga, we would have no objection."
"Given the business lost to travel time, I fear I could not afford more than a five percent discount to the Gōketsu, and only on preorders. I apologize most profusely for this, but the realities of business are harsher than the villain Melathon, Tyrant of Torture in the farthest north of the Land of Snow, a fearsome foe that I defeated in my recent travels—"
"Final offer: Forty percent," Keiko asserted. "On all goods, not just pre-orders. To the Gōketsu, the Nara, the Akimichi, and the Yamanaka. Plus, the four clans will have right of first refusal on all sales, in the stated order." She looked over at Hazō. "My patience is at its limit. We are leaving in one minute."
"Keiko! He's the only source for a lot of these things, and they're valuable. We can't afford to not get the deal!"
"Chill," Noburi said reprovingly. "We've already got Asakawa, and he can provide most of the spices this guy can."
"Asakawa? Asakawa?! You would compare my wares to the shoddy servings of that miserable wretch?! My quality is higher, my breadth of offering is wider, and he carries none of my specialty items—elixirs, potions, preparations derived from the deepest lore of a thousand tribes lost to the world—"
"Most of which are doubtless nothing more than a bit of mulled wine," Keiko said. "As to the rest, I shudder to speculate."
"Young mistress, I assure you that all my goods are efficacious and of the highest quality!"
A death stare of ice far colder than the Snow Country estate of Melathon, Tyrant of Torture, bored into Saito's soul. "I do not care if they are made exclusively of gold and the blood of the Sage, although horse urine and your spittle seem more likely. You annoy me and I hold the purse strings. You will take my offer or we will depart."
"Grant me but this and we have a deal: All the things you stated, yet only for the first trip, after which the discount drops to ten percent, and a maximum value to the storied goods I provide at discount to your honored selves and those wise enough to ally with you."
The ice soured, if such were possible. "Two million ryō worth."
"Ah, young mistress! If you seek to beggar me, 'twould be simpler but to rob the store! I could manage fifty thousand."
The cold room became colder. "Listen closely, mortal, for these are the last words we shall speak before departure. You undoubtedly have an account book listing your recent sales. You will hand those to Higashino right now, so we may verify your prices. You will pack your goods and be prepared to leave one month from today. Thanks to the terrible negotiations of my foolish brother, we will grant you fifty very valuable storage scrolls and pay for a ninja escort to bring you to Leaf. Once there, you will offer your wares to the Gōketsu, then the Nara, then the Akimichi, then the Yamanaka. You will offer these goods at a forty percent discount, up to a maximum of four hundred thousand ryō per clan. On all future trips the discount shall be twenty percent. Above the four hundred thousand you may negotiate whatever price you wish. Once the four clans have had their choice, you may sell whatever you have left to anyone at any price. If you attempt to cheat us—perhaps by failing to offer all of your available goods during the discounted bargaining—you will be sent to the Torture and Interrogation department until I can convince my Clan Head to allow you the sweet mercy of death. The nature of which will be for my pangolins to rip you into shreds so tiny it will be impossible to identify one part from the next. I have done my research and know what your last twelve sales have been; if you do not make more profit on this one trip than you have in the last three months then you are an idiot. If you are too stupid to accept the offer then we shall depart, but I am not willing to waste more time on you. Do you agree to these terms or not?"
Saito swallowed, his eyes wide. "Yes, ma'am. I agree."
"Excellent."
o-o-o-o
As they left the store, account books in hand, Noburi turned to Keiko.
"Keiko, I'm disappointed in you."
She blinked in surprise. "What? I thought the deal was quite favorable."
"Yeah, but you told him that terrifying offer of yours was going to be the 'last words we shall speak before leaving' and then after he accepted you said, 'Excellent'. You really shouldn't go back on your word like that or you might damage the sterling reputation of the Gōketsu."
It was a wonder that Keiko's glare did not melt Noburi into a puddle of protoplasm.
XP AWARD: 5
This update covers the period from the end of the tournament (~6pm yesterday ) until 1pm today. It was clear, easy to follow, and a lot of fun to write. Thanks. :>
It is now about 1pm. Lunch with Shin is scheduled for 1:30 and will need to be written by the inimitable @Velorien.
Vote time! What to do now?
Voting ends on Wednesday, March 20, 2019, at 12pm London time.
"You called me," Anna said. "I was afraid you never would."
Kei offered no greeting. It would have been a waste of breath.
"Tell me what you want, Anna," Kei said. "Abstractly rather than immediately. What is it that you desire from me, given our shared history which impels me to erase your existence from my mind at best and to use my newly-acquired resources to destroy your future and plunge you into a bottomless pit of despair at worst?"
Anna did not answer immediately, despite having had an entire month to prepare a response
.
"I want to make it up to you. Somehow."
A predictable platitude from one who had only recently discovered the concept of guilt and did not know how to express it in her own words. Kei had expected nothing more.
"What makes you believe that such a thing is possible?" she asked. "You were at the heart of the torment I was forced to endure in my latter years at the Academy. Your cruelty shaped my life. And you did not so much as offer an explanation. Was that one… kiss… truly enough for you to dedicate all of your efforts to my destruction?"
"I worshipped you," Anna said softly. "In the beginning, I was an outsider as well, struggling to understand a world that no one would explain to me. But it didn't matter, because you showed me that I could live in that world without trying to be someone else. Without spending all my time seeking other people's approval. You were my role model."
Kei could not process the words. They were addressed to someone else, somewhere else.
"That night was merely a game to everyone else, but to me it was special. Not the kiss itself—I'm not one of those, and besides, we were children. But you had always been somewhat distant, and this was the most focused attention you had ever paid me. In that moment, in the dark, we were both curious and confused together, and relying on a bond of trust to find our way. It was… intimate.
"Then you rejected me. You violently thrust me aside and fled, as if I were some disgusting thing, and this new act of defilement was more than your mask of tolerance could withstand. You left, and abandoned me to be humiliated before the friends we—you and I—had so painstakingly made."
"I never considered them friends as such," Kei observed, "nor they me. It was simply assumed that as we were all females of a certain age, we should participate in the same social activities. The peer pressure was not worth resisting and besides, Ami had instructed me to seek new experiences.
"But worship? A role model? I could never have deserved anything of the kind, nor did I possess the extraordinary hubris to believe otherwise. Anna, did you spend all those years resenting me, inflicting endless pain upon me, for failing to satisfy the needs of your delusion?
"Well, I must disappoint you. Just as I should never have been the centre of your universe, you were not of mine. Yes, I was fond of you in a bewildered kind of way, a girl behaving as if I had in some way earned her attention when all others had already recognised it as a waste of time. If I could not fully embrace your friendship, it was because it never occurred to me that anyone would wish to befriend me in the first place.
"As to the… kiss..., my reaction was unexpected and indiscriminate. I have already explained as much. If you believed that I would react so strongly to you and you alone, then that was your conceit, another delusion which could have been dispelled had you only made the effort to ask.
"Is that all?" Kei asked coldly. "Anna, have you come here to seek the second chance that you never offered me?"
"I know I can't rewind time," Anna said, looking down. "I can't undo all the things I did. But I have to try.
"I betrayed you first."
There was that statement again. As if Anna's free will was a coin spinning in the air, each side marked with a different order of events.
As if to her, a single coin toss was enough to decide Kei's fate.
"Anna, allow me to be blunt. I hate you. I despise you. You are self-centred, cruel, and arrogant. That you should react as you did to my perceived behaviour—that you should react as you did to anything—speaks volumes about your character. I have no reason to believe that, had you and I remained on cordial terms, you would not have proceeded to persecute some other innocent child on some other pretext."
For how many years had she longed to express those feelings? How many years had she spent wishing she could choose not to flee, and instead cast defiance in the face of the clique that had selected her as its target? How many years had she spent adding that weakness to her ever-mounting stack of self-contempt?
Anna failed to deny the accusation.
"Keiko…" she said, "Keiko, I've spent the past month asking myself the same thing, I don't know who I would have been. The desire for vengeance changes people; everyone who's ever listened to a storyteller knows that. Uchiha Madara, the first and greatest missing-nin, started out as a hero. Many of the world's greatest villains used to be good people until they were so badly hurt that they decided to dedicate their lives to revenge."
"And that is how you excuse your actions? With narrative? Or perhaps you have reverted to blaming me for what you have become?"
"No!" Anna exclaimed. "No. I only mean…"
She fell silent, as if choosing words.
"I mean that I do not remember making choices. There must have been some, mustn't there? Forks in the road of what I could do and what I could become? But I can only see a straight line, from that first moment to when we went our separate ways at graduation, a natural progression of cause and effect.
"Except now I learn that I was wrong from the very beginning. If that's true, then what if I was supposed to be somebody different? What would I have been—to you, to myself, to everyone—if I hadn't been driven by revenge? There must have been opportunities to realise and undo my mistakes, and I simply failed to see them. It can't be that I was doomed forever by that one error."
"In other words," Kei said, "you are finally awakening to your monstrous nature. I thank you for your efforts. Why, I can feel my years of trauma melting away already."
But Kei forced herself off that path before she could travel too far along it. Yes, being here, finally in a position of power over her nemesis, was intoxicating. But intoxication healed nothing. At best, it failed to destroy.
"Anna, I have no interest in how you justify yourself. Nor, at this time, do your struggles with your identity concern me. That is not why I summoned you."
"Then why am I here?" Anna asked warily. "If you called me here to punish me, then I have no choice but to accept it. I am beginning to grasp the depth of my transgression. You have every reason to despise me."
"Punish you?" Keiko asked sardonically. "Do you truly believe that I would take the time to dredge up the past and all of its pain purely for the sake of punishing you?"
"Then why?" Anna appealed. "Are you offering me an opportunity to atone? To give something back in return for all those years I spent denying you happiness? I will do it, Keiko. Please… tell me what I can do to earn at least a fraction of your forgiveness."
"No."
Anna reeled back.
"Keiko, please..."
"There is a question," Kei interrupted, ignoring her, "that I have been led to ponder in recent times. Can something bestowed only on the worthy, or as the result of a transaction, truly be called forgiveness? You are, without a doubt, unworthy, and there is no deal you can offer me that will repay the debt incurred by those years of pain."
"What are you saying, Keiko?"
"I have not ceased to loathe you, Anna. There is no reason why I should. However… I am prepared to experiment with loathing you less, purely on a trial basis. I do not anticipate the restoration of a friendship so thoroughly buried beneath the experience of torment that I can barely recall it. On the other hand, according to the teachings of Kagome, that is not dead which can eternal lie."
"I still don't understand," Anna said.
"Is it friendship if it requires an assessment of worth, a quality that you have already proved yourself to lack? How far can such a bond develop and endure when one party's agency is treated as superior to the other's? Must a damaged person be made whole before they can accept forgiveness, and can forgiveness be bestowed on one who cannot understand the full extent to which they harmed you?
"I do not grant you permission to atone, Anna. I doubt such a thing is possible, and even if it were, you will not have such convenient balm for your soul. However… I will accept you as my experimental subject, to seek the answers to these questions and more, and I place no constraints on where such a relationship might lead.
"Choose."
Anna closed her eyes.
That she should take the time to contemplate was surprising. Kei had assumed that Anna would either be one kind of person or the other. If there was one trait she had displayed during those years, it was consistency.
"Do you mean that? This isn't some elaborate scheme of revenge I am duty-bound to sign up for because of what I did?"
An egotist to the last.
"I did not come here to seek revenge. If I sought such, I would not waste my time, and instead simply crush you. I have that power now, though not, as our original reunion testifies, the pettiness to prioritise you as its victim.
"I came here because I believe that your tears were genuine. And because, while I continue to hate you, recent events have led me to believe that even the most pathetic worm can sometimes be bestowed with a modicum of grace.
"I do not forgive you, Anna. I make no promise that I ever will. Instead I offer you something that may be much more valuable: the luxury of choice.
"In this place, at this time, choose your own future."
Hazō's art was sealing, the most advanced and most sophisticated of all shinobi disciplines. Noburi's art was interpersonal relationships, more complex and more challenging by far. But Kei...
"This is a fork in the road, isn't it?" Anna asked. "Finally?"
She paused briefly as if to gather her resolve.
"I'll do it. I choose to be your experimental subject. Tell me what I need to do."
These are my final moments. I can hear them coming, and I know the plan. If we win here—at any cost—the others will have a chance to escape. It won't all have been for nothing.
We already know this will cost some of us our lives. Maybe all of us. That's why I'll be spending the cheapest one first. I never learned any suicide techniques, so I can't create an opening with the wave of a hand. But it won't be hard to remind them how much ninjutsu I know, and then I'll be a priority target, forcing them to focus fire. After all, somebody has to do it.
If I had to name one regret before I die, it's not having made more mistakes. Mistakes are how you learn the boundaries of who you are and what you can do. They're how you develop a sense of identity.
-o-
It's my first day at the Academy today, and I think I'm excited. Apparently, I have lots of chakra, and that means I'm going to be a ninja. I don't know what chakra is, and all the real ninja are too busy to tell me, but I'm sure I'll find out soon.
But does being a ninja mean I'm going to have to fight people? I'm not very good at fighting. I hope there are ninja who do other things. I think there might be ninja who steal things? Mum says stealing isn't wrong if you're a ninja. I don't know how that works.
I hope I get on well with the other children. Mum says she's sure this time I'll make lots of friends.
-o-
I'm unhappy today. I knew the answers this time, and I put my hand up twice but Saka-sensei acted like I wasn't there again. I think it's the loud children who get all the attention, and that isn't fair. I'm not loud—Mum always says I shouldn't cause trouble for people—so at this rate he'll never notice me. Maybe I can do something helpful so he'll have to turn around and tell me what a good girl I am. I think the grease traps need cleaning, and after all, somebody has to do it.
=o-
I still don't think Saka-sensei has noticed. I tried cleaning up the classroom after lessons were over, so maybe that'll help. I think the other children have forgotten I'm there too, because sometimes they don't invite me to things. But the grease traps are very clean now, and that makes me a little happy.
-o-
I think I like a boy. I've never liked a boy before, and it feels much stranger than I expected. I'm scared and excited, and I don't get scared or excited as much as other people. But Satoshi is very handsome, and he's good at everything, and he's so kind to people. I hope he notices me too. I don't know if I'm brave enough to talk to him, but I'm going to try.
-o-
He still hasn't noticed me. I've tried to get his attention three times now, and he brushed me off and kept on talking with his friends. Maybe I could try talking to him a fourth time tomorrow, but I think Kanako's starting to glare at me whenever I go near him. I'm not very good at recognising that kind of thing, so she must be being very obvious about it. Maybe she likes him too?
Kanako is pretty, and very smart, and she's very good at taijutsu and ranged weapons. I'm a bit plain, and I'm not quite as smart as her, and I'm still not a great fighter no matter how hard I try. I'm a little bit sad, but I suppose it was nice while it lasted.
-o-
Graduation is near, and everyone's making their final choices on what to specialise in. I'm still not sure what to do. Taijutsu and ranged weapons are right out. I could be a spy, because I'm patient and I don't draw attention. But you also have to be good at improvising, and initiative isn't a strong point for me. Seduction isn't happening because you have to draw attention, and it takes an interesting person to seduce someone.
I was thinking about becoming a sealmaster, because even though I'm not a genius, you can get a long way through sheer hard work. Besides, if I can learn to make storage seals and explosive tags and so on, I can free up the talented sealmasters' time for more research. After all, somebody has to do it. Only the lab disappeared last night—fortunately, there was only one sealmaster inside at the time—and they won't have finished the next one by the time I graduate. It's probably for the best.
-o-
I finally have a team. I was late joining because Makino-sensei forgot to put my name on the assignment list. My team leader thinks I should focus on ninjutsu, because building chakra reserves and training ninjutsu are both about dedication more than talent. I don't think I'm terribly dedicated, but she seems to have faith in me, so I have to do my best.
I have the Earth Element, apparently, which is good for defence and utility. I like the sound of that. Mayumi and Riku are both taijutsu-spec (which seems like poor balancing to me, but maybe they were last on the list too), and this way I can protect them from things they can't fight up close. And utility ninjutsu is very important because every team needs it, but nobody wants to be the one to learn it.
-o-
There's always next year.
-o-
I'm a chūnin now. Mum would be proud if she was still alive. I did well in the Chūnin Exam—I knew what to focus my training on this time, and I had a more balanced team after Mayumi got promoted. I didn't make it to the end, but I did get above the internal cutoff.
I don't think I'm the right kind of person to lead my own team, so I suppose I should volunteer for one of the chūnin-only teams they use for B-rank missions. They always need more support ninjutsu, and I can use the Water Element now. I'm working on Fire next, for flexibility, but that's mostly offensive, so I'm less keen on it.
Is it strange that I still don't like killing people? That's what being a ninja turned out to be, after all. Everything is about either killing people or laying the groundwork for killing people. It all feels a bit pointless to me. I probably shouldn't tell anyone, though. It'll be hard to express what I mean with my social skills.
-o-
ANBU. How did that happen? ANBU. The village elite. I'm still expecting to wake up.
Apparently, even heroes need support specialists. It feels oddly validating. Also, there's a lot of paperwork to deal with when you get back home, and you can't outsource something full of village secrets.
-o-
I thought it would be different. Stonefish was going to be a field agent, serving the village by protecting its elite as they accomplished important missions. And doing the paperwork. It's surprising how many of the village's heroes are bad with paperwork.
But I never did get to leave the village. Instead, I'm internal support for ANBU investigations into potential traitors and the like. Apparently that's what happens when you end up in a high-trust category. I still don't know why I'm high trust, either—it's not like sticking to the rules is difficult.
Now the paperwork is about people suspected of betraying the village, plans for when and how to capture them, and sometimes the odd T&I report. I don't like reading the T&I reports.
I still keep up with my training every day. Sometimes I spar with people after work. I don't have hobbies the way a lot of people do, and there's always someone like me who doesn't spend enough time in the field and needs to make sure they don't get rusty.
-o-
So I'm a jōnin now. Apparently, you need jōnin clearance to access Category Five documents, and with four elements I qualify as a ninjutsu special jōnin. It's disconcerting. I am supposed to be one of the village elite now, but my life hasn't changed at all. My co-workers still forget my name, and I still spend a lot of my time sorting through records, or doing things that I'm technically not allowed to think about when I'm not doing them.
It makes me uncomfortable. Sometimes it feels like I'm killing someone just by sending the right documents to the right people. I know it's my job, and I know somebody has to do it, but for the first time, I'm wondering if maybe it should be someone else.
-o-
A woman approached me yesterday, asking me strange questions. What did I think about the current state policies? Was I satisfied with my life and the direction it was taking me? Did I ever feel like a grindstone in a water mill, grinding people to dust because that was how the river was flowing?
I didn't have answers to any of those questions. Nobody had ever asked.
She asked me to take the time to think about it, and maybe next time she'd introduce me to her friend who had some very original ideas on the subject.
-o-
I'm still figuring out how I ended up here. I know the sequence of events. They persuaded me that leaving the village was the right thing to do, and that my knowledge and my abilities, and above all my reliability, was what they would need to survive. I think they were exaggerating, but I also didn't see any reason to refuse. The village wouldn't suffer much for me being gone—though I wish I'd been able to stay long enough to prepare a replacement—and field support was what I'd originally trained for. Besides, I had organisational skills, and in-depth knowledge of strike teams, hunter-nin and everyone else who provided traitor-related reports. I'd be useful to someone whether I stayed or went.
-o-
The positive side of all this is that there's variety. Somebody has to keep the access points clear of chakra beasts. Somebody has to triage and provide first aid (I have some medic-nin training, though not at specialist level). Somebody has to keep track of logistics now that Sumie is gone. Somebody has to keep working on the base with the Earth Element, and set up dummy shelters. Somebody has to organise the "off-duty" genin to make sure they're doing something productive. In a way, it's more fulfilling than when I was working for the sake of the entire village back home.
-o-
They're coming. He's coming, and I know the plan. Inoue proposed it, and Shikigami agreed without hesitation. If all three of us stand together, we might be able to beat Captain Zabuza. It's not guaranteed—I've read his mission reports—but even if we all die, we just need to take him down with us. Or at least cripple him. The rest of the group know where to go if Hidden Swamp is destroyed, and Captain Zabuza is the only one with the skill and motivation to track them through the swamp and past the Fire border.
In these final moments, I realise I've finally made a mistake. I accepted Shikigami and Inoue's suicidal choice to go from Mist to Fire.
I've finally made a mistake, and I finally know who I am. I'm a woman who goes with the flow because wherever I end up, there will always be someone I can help.
A brief exchange of messages had established the place (Hazō's choice, Byakuren's Cookbook) and the time (noon, the earliest Shin could be free from the very important things he was already doing in the morning). Jiraiya had remarked during their visit that Mist's couriers were amazing, with messages arriving practically before they were sent. To Hazō, it seemed more like Leaf messengers were slow and lazy, but then they'd never had to worry about the consequences of delayed communication in a regime built around brutal efficiency. Yagura had no particular feelings about bearers of bad news, but there had been occasions when couriers bringing him information too late for it to be useful simply never came back from his office. He suspected that even a clan heir told to deliver a message would be halfway out the door before they realised that they could delegate the task.
"Earth to Hazō," Shin said with cool amusement. "If you're going to make someone wait as a show of superiority, you don't do it when you're already sitting in front of them. Little pro tip for you from the diplomat clan."
"Sorry, Shin," Hazō said. "So how are you?"
"Having fun watching from your sidelines," Shin said. "Did you really tell your sister to set you on fire?"
"No," Hazō gave a wry smile. "That took me completely by surprise."
""Me too," Shin said. "Not the kind of tactic you expect from pangolins."
"Pangolins?" Hazō asked warily. The Gōketsu had never confirmed or denied anything about the Pangolin Clan, much less the details of Keiko's relationship with them.
"Sure," Shin said. "Who else would she ask to come up with a plan for her? Who else could pick between the two siblings without offending each one equally so that whoever won, they lost? You remember what happened to Rain after Hanzō of the Salamander won over the isolationist clans and got his village involved in the Second Great Ninja War. Before, everyone had been avoiding Rain because it had a reputation, and nobody thought it was worth the losses to grab a tiny neutral state that wasn't in anyone's way. Now, the infamous weather is the only reason the place isn't still on fire."
Hazō gave a sagely nod to indicate that he had any idea what this was supposed to be a metaphor for.
"The Kurohige's is a nice touch, by the way," Shin said. "Subtle."
"Thanks," Hazō said. Was that an opening? Mari-sensei would definitely call this an opening.
"I'm finally getting round to all the things I didn't get to try when I was younger," he said meaningfully. Hopefully Shin would take this as the intended allusion to the Kurosawa. Hazō still hated the clan and wished a giant meteorite would fall on the compound when everyone was gathered together to celebrate Aunt Ren's birthday, but he wouldn't be able to get what he wanted from Shin if he didn't show any willingness to bury the kunai.
"Is that right?" Shin laughed. "And your go-to experience is strong drink? I think the layers of symbolism might not entirely favour you here."
Was Shin questioning Hazō's overture? Associating Hazō's implied feelings towards the Kurosawa with the need to get drunk? Or just teasing him about his questionable diplomatic skills?
"I'm trying to broaden my range of experiences," Hazō said. "Hence me being here trying out traditional Mist cuisine."
Shin gave him a wry look. Hazō wished he'd cut him some slack. He wasn't exactly practised with subtext, and Shin should be grateful that Hazō had made such extensive preparations in order to make the conversation interesting.
"Also," he added off-handedly, "in this place I get access to the regulars' menu. I guess I owe Mori Ami a favour."
His brain processed what he'd just said at about the same time Shin raised his eyebrow. "You owe Mori a favour. How did you even… no, never mind. I don't think I want to know."
"Why?" Hazō asked. "What kind of reputation does she have?"
"Well," Shin said, "you know how the Bingo Book has entries like Hoshigaki Kisame's, where instead of the bounty it just says "do not engage"? She has the Kurosawa equivalent of that. Everybody engages with her anyway, of course, because she's just so damn useful, but we try to minimise the number of favours we owe her. She never forgets. Back when Cousin Yūji was eight, and she was close to graduating, she took the heat off him for a broken window on a day he couldn't afford to get detention. Four years later, she got him to keep his new squad leader busy for a couple of hours for reasons we'll probably never know. She will call in her markers, and the ancestors themselves don't know what kind of currency conversion goes on in that head."
Do not engage, Hazō reflected. He suspected the Bingo Book authors had simply neglected to include "do not be engaged to".
"And what if she owes you a favour?"
Shin shuddered. "That's even worse. I don't know of any instances personally, but Mori's supposed to be ruthless in repaying her debts. That's one of the reasons people are so ready to trade with her. She just gets things done. It's probably one of the reasons the Fourth—"
"The fourth what?" Hazō asked after a few seconds.
"No," Shin said. "It's probably not important. You don't really pay attention to Mist's internal politics anyway."
"I don't?"
"No," Shin said. "Obviously, I heard your offer. It's classic Hazō—original, inspired, and oblivious to external circumstances. I'm not saying it's not cunning in its own way. It doesn't cost you anything, it's not something I can get elsewhere, and it puts me comfortably in your debt. I can respect professional work no matter where it's coming from.
"But then, as usual, you trip over your own intelligence. Hazō, do you even know how Mist sees the ambassadorhood debacle?"
"Debacle?" Hazō asked, concealing his nervousness.
"So first, the Mizukage brings back her exiled sister and creates a new, unprecedented position just for her, and that radiates a dangerous degree of favouritism. Her position's not so secure that she can afford to be seen doing that.
"Now, make no mistake, the ambassador thing is crazy and unprecedented. Villages just don't do that. You don't send a jōnin to be to a hostage to a foreign power. How much information could the enemy get out of someone with jōnin clearance? Worse, what if they were turned? The risks are huge, and the reward is minimal because the villages are never going to be anything but enemies, and it's not like having one person sitting around in the enemy camp is going to change that.
"So that costs her points with the hawks, because she's playing nice with Leaf, on top of the points she's already lost from reversing the previous elders' decision and bringing a failed Kurosawa back in. Then, said Kurosawa goes to Leaf and gets kicked out not two weeks later for reasons the Hokage refuses to explain. That's a slap in the face for the Kurosawa, a slap in the face for Mist, and a double reminder that Leaf can't be trusted and nor can your mother because after being reinstated as diplomat, she immediately fell into Leaf's trap."
This was probably a bad time to mention that the whole thing had been Mum's fault. Well, except where Jiraiya had reacted by punching her through a wall and banishing her without a second thought. And then laughed about it over dinner.
"In short, Hazō, the Leaf diplomat position was made up for your mother so she could spend time with her son again, for multiple reasons. It's not coming back. Even if it was, that chalice is dripping with poison now. In Mist, the Hokage treated the Mist ambassador with shocking disrespect before terminating the relationship—just what you'd expect when trying to play nice with your ancient enemies. In Leaf, I'm guessing the Mist ambassador misbehaved so badly the Hokage couldn't help exiling her, with the same implications.
"Now, I don't know what pretext the Hokage used to exile your mother. I guess your teary-eyed reunion wasn't worth that much after all. I don't know how much of Mist wonders if she's a turncoat either, given that she willingly went to Leaf to cooperate with you. But at least she gets an excuse—she's always been a romantic figure for some commoners, and even if you're a disgusting missing-nin, they can at least understand how a mother's love might overrule all that is right and just in the world.
"Me? I'm just a random freshly-baked chūnin without even her thinly-veiled excuse of serious diplomatic experience. The sharks and the turtles would tear me to shreds, and the common people would spit on the remains. Assuming the Hokage didn't just throw my career on the funeral pyre by exiling me like he did Hana."
"…so that's a no, then?"
Shin rolled his eyes. "That's a 'I have half a brain, so I'm going to talk to my experienced seniors and see if they have different perspectives on the situation'. But I wouldn't hold your breath."
"It doesn't have to be this way, Shin," Hazō said, trying to keep up his falling spirits. "I came here to Mist with the idea of bringing our villages together, of learning to cooperate as a foundation for something bigger. This one incident doesn't have to be the end of that."
Shin sighed. "You gave me the spiel last time, remember? And credit where credit's due, you aced the Chūnin Exam, and even mouthed off to the entire world about your radical ideas. I bet the Hokage had conniptions. But what you're trying to do is still impossible. Even Senju Hashirama couldn't end the thousand-year cycle of hatred. Remember your history lessons? The First Hokage's peaceful ideal was to stop the Fire Country clans fighting each other by turning all of their hatred against a series of common foes, thereby making it narrower and proportionally more intense.
"Our ancestors, yours and mine, had long since fled those clans' brutal persecution. They found true freedom here in Water, where there was room for any man to prosper who had the strength and will to overcome the sea. Then Fire took away that freedom once again by forcing us to unite in order to survive. Three world wars, Hazō. A world built on blood. Even this Leaf-Mist peace of yours might be about to trigger the fourth.
"So far, you've shown me nothing but pretty words—and your seals and pangolins, which I have to admit were pretty impressive. You've also shown me, with that rant of yours, that you still don't understand diplomacy. So you'll forgive me if I'm sceptical that you can do something even the First Kage couldn't."
"You could help," Hazō said. "Even if you don't want to take the 'poisoned chalice', co-operation is a good thing. It's better than gearing up for the next war. You have to agree with that, right?"
Shin's expression was non-committal.
"Look," Hazō went on, "I don't know if you've heard, but I'm hosting a gaming night tonight. We'll be playing board games, and all sorts of important people, including clan heirs, are going to be there. Even if you don't care about the rhetoric, maybe it'll be a chance to broaden your horizons?"
"A gaming night," Shin said flatly. "I'm guessing you don't mean a shogi tournament or anything as sensible."
"Tactical challenges, roleplaying, gambling of a sort. Each guest gets to invite up to two people, so you don't have to leave your team out if you don't want to."
"An international gaming night," Shin seemed stuck on the concept. "Placing people who want each other dead in direct competition within an enclosed space. Why does that sound oddly familiar?"
"Come on, Shin. It'll be fun. Plus it'll be your last chance to take revenge," Hazō added teasingly.
"Unless you and I meet on opposite sides of a battlefield someday," Shin said coolly. "An epic Iron Nerve showdown, Uplift versus Downfall. You can't tell me it wouldn't make a great story, assuming anyone survived to tell it."
He caught Hazō's gaze. "Don't think that one's over just because you beat us last time, Hazō. That was just the part where the hero suffers his initial defeat. Coming up next is the training arc, and we all know what happens after that."
This time it was Hazō's turn to lift an eyebrow.
"Anna eats those things up. You just kind of absorb them after a while. On the other hand, Kiri's philosophy is that the world is ruled by cruel kami who move us all like playing pieces even as they mock our suffering."
"And you?"
"I don't think the world only runs on one narrative. But the fun of being a diplomat is exploring the places where different people's narratives intersect, right? So I guess I'll attend your gaming night. But I'll be expecting you to provide a diagram with all the exits in advance."
-o-
The cookies were great. Seeing Mum again was great. Inviting her to the gaming night was less great, as she had reservations about spending a night with the master statesman who'd put his adoptive son's mother through a wall and half-drowned her, either because he couldn't control his temper or because he thought doing so would score him political points.
Fortunately, for today she was prepared to sidestep the whole issue in favour of doing things both of them would actually enjoy. They talked about the Chūnin Exam tournament and analysed everyone's performance, but for once in a fun rather than tactical way. They laughed at Inuzuka's dramatic incompetence, and threw around wild theories about Nara's true abilities. Mum offered to have a word with Keiko about setting him on fire (was this going to be a running joke now?), but there was no possible way that wouldn't go disastrously wrong, so he politely refused.
And talking about things going disastrously wrong seemed like a natural lead-in to the topic of Mori.
"Nice girl," Mum said thoughtfully after he briefly summarised their situation. "Tall, slim, pretty hair, all her own teeth. Good sense of humour. I guess you could do worse for a rebound."
"Mum!"
Mum chuckled. "Sorry, unrequited crush. You're probably a bit young for her."
"Muuum!"
"Oh, like I can't tell. How much time do you spend thinking about her, young man?"
"That's beside the point," Hazō protested. "She's an important strategic factor. I have to analyse her behaviour from every angle if I'm ever going to understand what's going on inside her head."
"Don't worry," Mum said. "I was the same with Shinji at first. Obviously I needed to spend time studying my chosen target and plotting a detailed plan of action. Obviously I couldn't overlook even the tiniest detail. Obviously sketching images of him instead of calligraphy practice was just a way to look for inspiration."
"Target?" Hazō couldn't help asking.
"A social specialist jōnin has to be good at every form of subtle manipulation. That includes seduction techniques."
Gaah. Mental imagery. Gaah. Also gaah.
"Does that include Mori?" Hazō asked the first thing that occurred to him so as to clear his mind with all conceivable haste.
"And that's straight where his mind goes." Mum smirked. "I rest my case."
"Muuum!"
Mori was to blame as well, with her stupid gorgeous body and stupid unforgettable seduction techniques, but that was a subject he did not care to discuss with anyone ever, much less his own mother.
"In answer to your question, cricket, I've never bothered to find out. As far as I'm concerned, what happens under the sheets can stay people's private business unless you're literally on a seduction mission with them. If only everyone had the same discretion.
"But I assume you didn't actually bring her up because you wanted to know about her sex life. Though don't worry if you did—it's perfectly normal for a boy your age to be curious."
She had to be doing this deliberately. Why did all the women in his life seem to derive some sort of twisted pleasure from messing with his head?
Unfortunately, with only a few hours to spare before the gaming night, he didn't have time to cook up a suitably elaborate scheme of revenge.
"Back to your non-romantic problems," Mum said, "if you're sure you don't want my advice on those. The thing Mori's doing to you is sucking you into her pace. She takes control of the interaction not by bullying so much as by keeping you disoriented so you don't know where to go except where she leads. It's elegant, in a cruel kind of way."
Hazō nodded.
"Obviously, you don't have the experience to dance with her that way. That leaves you with two options. You can be Hazō the Immovable, where you stick to your script and flat-out ignore any deviations. It has a good chance of getting you the specific things you want, which is nice. But it also turns you into a fortress, and you know war doctrine when it comes to fortresses."
Hazō did indeed.
"Your offence and defence become predictable, and she can do absolutely anything she wants within those limits. Also, you need leverage, and at the moment all you can do is take your toys and go home. That won't faze her if the status quo already favours her.
"Your second option is to play her game so hard it disorients her. Don't focus on winning. Just keep moving, doing exactly what she does but at different angles. Sooner or later an opening will present itself through sheer blind luck. But that approach is just as risky. The second she figures out your pace, you're right back where you started, only now everything is going ten times as fast.
"Honestly, the only certain way not to lose is not to play the game. You're not a social-spec jōnin, cricket, and I doubt you ever will be."
"What about her favour system?" Hazō asked. "Is there anything I should know about that?"
Mum shrugged. "There was always a semi-regulated grey market under the Third. Purely legal trade in goods and services was strictly monitored, and that's not always a good thing. Remember my work making chūnin jackets? That was already borderline. Law enforcement turned a blind eye to that kind of work, with the right incentives, but I'd rather have dived into a pool of chakra piranhas than undergone a formal inspection.
"The girl knows what she's doing, though. She's only four years older than you, and already she's at the heart of her own spider web. I'd almost be jealous if…"
"If?" Hazō asked when it became apparent that Mum wasn't going to continue.
"If my life had gone a different way," Mum said distantly. "Did you know Ren and I used to be best friends?"
Hazō conjured up the image of the cold, remote Aunt Ren in his mind. The woman who had chosen to be on the other side of the fence while the two of them were hungry and alone.
"I was the irresponsible younger sister who kept getting into trouble. Ren was the level-headed older one who kept getting me out of it. There was no question in anyone's mind that one day she'd be head of the clan, and I would be her loyal right hand, representing the clan before the outside world while she was busy doing the jobs only a clan head could do.
"Then your grandparents gave me her future.
"Do you know what she did, Hazō? She cried for a while, and then she told me that I was a better fit for the job anyway and she'd make sure it was a smooth transition. She could have hated me, but instead she was already gearing up to guide me through this ridiculous mess that Lord Ginrei and Lady Raito somehow thought I could handle.
"And I did my best, Hazō. I trained, and I studied, and I learned how to do all the things that were the opposite of what I felt like doing. Ren took the time to help me as she promised. She worked to pass on all those skills she'd never get to use. It's strange, but I think what happened made us even closer than we were before.
"But nobody in the clan would accept that amidst all of my work and responsibilities, there was one thing that was mine."
"You mean Dad," Hazō said, almost afraid to disrupt the fragile sentimental mood.
"She hated him from the very beginning. He was a fool, disrespectful, incompetent, untrustworthy, disloyal and probably adulterous, a commoner with no sense of duty or tradition, and below my station in every conceivable way. I couldn't afford distractions if I was going to live up to the expectations placed upon me, she said, much less the likes of Shinji.
"We had the most epic fights.
"Of course, then the elders became involved, and suddenly it wasn't just a family matter. It was an everything matter, as if me having a boyfriend was the thing that would cause the fabric of the universe to collapse in on itself and end the world. They made it clear that they simply wouldn't accept him. I made it clear that they simply weren't going to have a choice. You don't get to choose an heir based on her strength of will and then complain when she turns out to be strong-willed. That's something I respect Mori for, by the way—having the guts to defend her family from her clan.
"They kept upping the pressure, on him and on me. But even though he was a commoner with no recourse against one of the village's great powers, he never broke. That's the kind of man your father was.
"Ren was the worst. She tried everything she could to make us break up. She yelled. She ranted. She appealed to obscure points of law. At the end, she even begged. It hurt, seeing her beg, and I guess that must have been why she did it.
"But I'd made my choice. And on our wedding day, the elders made theirs. Ren came in person to tell me that I didn't have a home anymore. You know the rest of the story."
Hazō had known the vague timeline before, of course. But this was the first time Mum had spoken of her relationship with Aunt Ren. It was nothing like what he'd expected.
"Do you hate her?" he asked.
Mum took a couple of seconds before she answered. "Yes.
"She abandoned us. She was supposed to be the strong one, and she did nothing. She wasn't there when you were born. She wasn't there when Shinji died. She wasn't there when I was having a dry spell and you were sick and I had to borrow. If you want to know what your aunt is trying to atone for… it's for her promise to always have my back."
Hazō hadn't invited Aunt Ren today. Maybe he never would.
He hugged Mum, and then they just stayed like that for a while.
"I have to get going now," Hazō said, reluctantly disengaging. "The gaming night is coming up, and I have a diagram to draw, and anyway…"
Mum nodded. "It was wonderful to see you, Hazō. Get the Hokage to sort out this alliance business so we can do it again."
"One more thing," Hazō said as he was about to turn away, "is there anything you can tell me about jōnin auras? I hate the way I have no defence when Mori does hers."
"Jōnin auras?" Mum asked with a smile. "They have a word for that now? I remember the days when people took the time to categorise things. But what you're talking about, in my opinion, is force of will multiplied by chakra. Chakra's the connection between your mind and the outside world. Exerting your will on it is like casting a genjutsu on reality. Reality doesn't particularly care, but if you're in the area of effect, you most certainly do. Except of course that you can't dispel something that's everywhere rather than just inside your brain."
It was very different from Jiraiya's version, but it also failed to account for what Keiko was doing. Keiko didn't have that much chakra, not on a jōnin scale. Noburi had a crazy amount, but you didn't see him intimidating people with his very presence, or doing whatever the Noburi-opposite of intimidation would be (on reflection, in some ways Hazō's siblings were eerily balanced).
"And defence?" he asked.
"Well, there's the classic defensive technique known to every jōnin, or more precisely everyone who lives long enough to become a jōnin. Works on nearly everything."
Hazō thought about it for a second. "Don't be there."
"That's right. Other than that, it's focus. If you can't beat somebody's diffused will with your own, then you have to go the other way and focus on a single thing as hard as possible, like clinging to a rock in a storm. 'I have to get through this because my beloved mother is waiting for me at home', for example, or 'I can't let myself die until I've had my revenge'. Of course, you're still trying to beat a jōnin, so it's a last resort at best. But if, say, you're so terrified that you're about to slit your own throat, and you have one moment of lucidity in which to try to resist until backup gets there, this is what I'd use."
"One moment of lucidity," Hazō repeated. There was bound to be one while talking to Mori, wasn't there? Somewhere? At some point?
Then, one more hug, later, it was time for Hazō to head out and prepare for the greatest challenge of his year-and-a-half long gaming life.
-o-
You have received 2 XP.
-o-
You have maybe an hour before the gaming night. You have cruelly abandoned Keiko and Noburi, plus such Leaf genin as are willing to help, to perform the initial setup, but now you have no excuse not to join them. Make your final preparations, for history's first and possibly final international gaming night is upon us!
-o-
What do you do?
Voting closes on Saturday 30th of May, 9 a.m. New York Time.
Author's Note:I don't want to upset anyone. Miss this chapter if you're likely to be negatively affected by the aftermath of a loved one's death. You have been warned and, Dad gum it, sometimes death needs to happen in a story.
Four months.
It's almost exactly four months since that motherfucker killed Sensei.
I can't wait to get the fuck out of this snakepit and get home...although, once there's no more need for a united front against the foreigners, I'll need to deal with Shit-for-Brains in all his glory again. If he gives me one more of those supercilious eyebrows, or tries to subtly sneer at me for being born with only one name, or implies that I'm untrustworthy because I'm emotionally compromised and the hat should belong to someone with 'a calm temperament bolstered by trained self-control', I swear by the Sage I will punch him in the fucking dick.
...
Okay, maybe I am emotionally compromised.
Strike that, of course I am.
Sage's tears, I miss him so much. He was brilliant at all this political work, and I'm barely muddling through...how am I supposed to do this?! Sensei, how could you fucking leave me like that?! Get back here, you son of a bitch! I'm going to screw it all up and Leaf will burn! Please....
Breathe.
Breathe. You can do this.
I've been keeping his pillow in a storage scroll as much as possible, but it barely smells like him anymore. I can't remember his scent, and even the exact sound of his voice is hazy. I can remember his words, but not the exact pitch or timbre. How can I forget that? The man raised me, taught me everything I know...everything good about me is down to him. Why can I not remember his voice more clearly?
I've been trying to stay busy as much as possible. I'm always okay as long as I'm distracted. Viper and Eagle have been very careful not to comment on the fact that I take a scroll or a book into the shitter with me and that I even have one eye on a book when I'm eating if there's not someone to talk to. Can't afford to leave space for random thoughts.
Needing to sleep sucks. Can't be running my brain when I'm trying to fall asleep, so that's when the memories come crowding back in. The worst is his last few minutes. 'Agonal breathing'—that's what I remember Tsunade calling it. Something like snoring, or like gargling snot. His eyes were open, but completely blank and pointed off to the side, not looking at anything specific and with no one behind them. How long was he like that? Four minutes? Five? And then he rattled his last breath and he was gone. I sat there, holding his hand until it was cold. His face went yellow and waxy, his mouth slack and gaped open like a village idiot. His hair was all mussed up; I remember feeling silly for trying to finger-comb it back into order, but I couldn't not.
If I'd studied medicine like Tsunade, could I have saved him? I at least could have done something instead of just sitting there like a useless lump of shit waiting for him to die. If we manage to recover all the missing, Haystack Head is coming home in a fucking box. A small fucking box.
I refuse to let this be the thing I think of when I remember Sensei, so every time that image pushes its way into my mind I force myself to substitute it with another—often him skiing on that training trip back when. Knees bent, feet together as he schussed down the mountain, bouncing off the moguls and grinning the whole way. Sometimes he would stay on top of the powder and sometimes he would let himself drop into it just to make it fly everywhere. Or sometimes I'll use the image of him on the boat that one time—me in the bilge puking my lungs out while he stood on the rail, left hand on the tiller, right hand on the main sheet, hiking way out to keep it level as he steered us straight across the teeth of the storm. He was having the time of his life, face split with a smile as the salt water sprayed over both of us.
The worst part is that I'm usually fine. I'm even happy a lot of the time, bouncing along through life as though things were perfectly normal. I think it still doesn't feel real, even though intellectually I know that he is in fact not there. He's not sitting at his big old desk with his pipe clamped between his teeth, churning through page after page of paperwork and making it look easy. He's not in the library, drinking and writing me teasing letters about why technique hacking is an infinitely superior art to sealcrafting. He's not anticipating problems and nudging me in the right direction—always a nudge, making it look like I thought of it myself. I think that was his real strength—yes, he knew a ridiculous number of ninjutsu and he could spar with Gai on an almost-even footing, but his real strength was people. He cared about everyone. He listened patiently and he made a real effort to help with whatever your trouble was. He went out of his way to make everyone around him feel respected and smart. Whenever he would start talking about something that he knew perfectly well you didn't know shit about, he would start off with "Well, as you know..." and then slip in a quick explanation so that you didn't have to feel stupid for asking basic questions.
He's never going to see me finish writing that sealcrafting manual that I've been faffing with for the last three years. He died thinking that I was screwing off on something he told me was really important.
How can I be fine? What's wrong with me? I should be having more trouble more often, shouldn't I? What kind of selfish, broken bastard doesn't grieve for his father?
I do grieve, of course. It's rare, but when it hits me it comes without warning; I can feel my entire face crumple up and all I can do is keen like a wounded dog. I've managed not to do that in front of anyone so far, thank the Sage. Shit-for-Brains would jump on that like a hawk on a shrew.
Of course, if I'm going to give in to something, better that it be the grief than the anger. The anger comes less often, but it would be a disaster if I really did shove my thumbs into Shit-for-Brains's eye sockets and scoop those so-precious little pebbles out like fucking grapes. Or literally punch MegaBitch in the throat so hard that her spine snaps. It's a lovely image, though...one punch, leading with the main two knuckles, that dry-twig snap!, then follow the body down as she collapses and just pound on that overly-controlled unreadable face of hers over and over and fucking over until it was just—
Stop. Breathe.
So far I've avoided actually hitting anyone, and I've also mostly managed to avoid biting anyone's head off. I was hard on Insightful one time—I threatened him about his speech, and about not interfering with the search. I wish it was okay for a Clan Head to apologize to a clan child, because I probably went too far. Still, it's important that he understand it. His brain is a knot of snakes sometimes, and I have to assume that the thought would at least occur to him. I don't think he'd act on it, but best if that's put to bed right off the bat.
I was rummaging through one of my scrolls the other day and I came across a note that he wrote for me on a scrap of paper: Pls send me [that thing] so that I can put it in the report for Tuesday. Looking at it feels...strange. Good? Maybe? It makes him feel real. Not like an actual presence in the room, just real. I can almost remember his voice when I read it. Of course, it also brings home that he's gone, fucking dead, not here, I'll never see him again, he'll never again tell me that one stupid joke that he told me fifty times and I always laughed because he was so gleeful about it.
...
Breathe. Breathe. This room has been made private, but it's not completely soundproof. Maybe I should summon Gamaichi so I can go to the Seventh Path and lose it for a while? No. No, can't do that. Need to be here in case things start happening.
Oh, Sensei. Please come back. I can't do all this without you.
The grains were musty, the tubers were limp, the beets were pale, and the man across the street was a spy.
Kagome's shopping basket was only half full when he caught sight of the stinker. The man was watching him, fidgeting nervously and keeping parallel on the other side of the street as Kagome moved through the market.
The sealmaster gave it two minutes to be sure, then took a hard left and ducked behind the stall of someone selling glass figurines. They sparkled beautifully in the bright winter sun, throwing rainbows and glints everywhere. More importantly, the merchant had set up taller-than-head-height screens on three sides of his stall in order to keep the wind at bay, so it provided a good way to break line of sight quickly.
Kagome set the basket on the ground and slipped his ring boxes on, crouching slightly and listening hard as he waited for the stinking spy to make his move.
Sure enough, the stinker came around the screen seconds after Kagome himself, gormlessly unaware what was happening until he found his face rammed into the ground and Kagome kneeling on his back with one ring box pressed against the side of the man's head.
"Who are you, you stinker?" Kagome hissed. "Why are you following me?! Who are you working with? I won't let you take me, do you hear?!"
"Help," grunted the stinker.
"Don't bother calling for your friends! I'll kill you before they can get here, do you understand me? And then I'll kill them! Boom, splat!"
"No! No friends—ugh, ow!—your help! I need your help!"
What.
"What are you talking about?"
"You're the one who knows about lupchanzen, right?"
Kagome pressed down harder. "You stay away from me with your lupchanzen! You're not sticking anything in my ears!"
"No! Not you! My brother!"
"I won't let him stick anything in my ears either!"
"My name is Chie Michio. I think my brother has been lupchanzed, and I need your help to find out! Ow! Please let go, I was just here to get your help!"
What?!
"If you were here for my help, why didn't you just ask?" Kagome demanded suspiciously. "You've been following me, just watching."
"I was scared, okay? You're a ninja. I was worried you'd kill me if I annoyed you. Or if it was some kind of secret that you needed to keep."
Kagome blinked and leaned back just slightly. "Why would I kill you?"
"Um...."
"Oh, right!" Kagome stood up and backed away a step, then darted in and pulled the other man to his feet, brushing the dust off his chest with guilty haste.
"Sorry, sorry. Didn't mean to...I mean, you shouldn't sneak up on people like that, so it's not my fault. But, still sorry. Shouldn't have planted you like that. I thought you were here to kill me."
"Why would I kill you?" Chie asked, frowning. "I'm here to get your help. You're the only one who knows about lupchanzen."
"How do you know about lupchanzen?"
Chie's eyes shifted from side to side and he leaned in, lowering his voice. "I hear things. And I've been keeping my ears open ever since the Watchers took me."
"Watchers? That's a myth!"
"It's not! They took me, and did experiments on me!"
"What kind of experiments?"
Chie glanced nervously around again and lowered his voice. "Can we go somewhere more private? They still follow me and I don't want them knowing I'm talking about them."
Kagome considered that. "Fine. Follow me."
o-o-o-o
"Good morning, sirs! Two today, or—"
"Function room. Everyone out."
The host sighed. "Sir, please. We have a birthday party scheduled in an hour, and they've already paid. We truly appreciate your family's business, but—"
Kagome riffled through his seals and pulled one out, causing both Chie and the host to tense up. He paid no attention, simply unsealing a bag about the size of two fists and upending it on the host's podium. A rain of ryō flowed out, coins bouncing and scattering and some falling to the floor.
"Now can we have it?"
"Of course, sir! Right this way, sir! Could I get you anything? We have some lovely tea, or pastries, or cakes, or—"
"Hot chocolate. With ginger and hot pepper oil for me. Whatever he wants in his." He glanced over at Chie. "Ginger is good. Peppers give it a nice bite. Hickory is a little weird, but tasty."
Chie looked dumbfounded. "Ah...ginger?"
"Hot chocolate, sir? We don't actually—" The host glanced at the layer of money covering his podium. "Yes, sir. It'll be just a few minutes while we get it." The host started moving towards the back room, meanwhile gesturing frantically to one of the waiters and pointing towards the podium. The dark-haired man, who had been loitering around in the background and listening with interest and clear relief at not being the one talking to the crazy ninja, nodded and hurried to collect the money.
"Here you are, sirs." The host pulled the door of the function room open and ushered his pushy customers inside, getting them seated in the dark-leather chairs that surrounded the long table. "May I offer you some pastries while we're waiting for the hot chocolate? Or a meal?"
Kagome's eyes lit up. "Do you have that carrot cake? With the butter icing and the little flowers on it?"
"Of course, sir! It's a house specialty! I'll have some brought in right away."
Kagome waited until the man had pushed the door shut behind him, then turned to the not-really-a-spy. "Start talking. What's this about Watchers, and where do lupchanzen come in?"
"It started two years ago. I noticed that my brother was acting strange...sneaking out at all hours, going off into the meadow behind the barn and then hurrying away with an armful of plants, slacking off on his chores to vanish during the day, and denying all of it. I pressed him on it and he refused to talk to me. Got angry and stormed out. The next day he poisoned me!"
"What?! The stinker!"
"I know, right? It was slow onset, took about twenty-four hours to take full effect, but then I practically couldn't move for the pain. That second night, the Watchers took me."
"Watchers are a myth. Everyone knows it's a cover story that the lupchanz conspiracy uses when they take over a promising sealmaster." A thought occurred and he looked suspiciously at Chie. "Are you a sealmaster?"
"No, sir. I'm a farmer, but I know what happened to me. I was in my bed, trying to sleep and couldn't because of the pain. It was well after midnight, a new moon so the whole room was pitch black. I heard them come into the house. The floorboards, you know. They creaked. Then I felt a presence in my room, and suddenly everything was light. So bright I couldn't see and it practically split my head, but there were shapes moving around behind it." His eyes got wide and intense. "I saw it, sir. I saw them! Behind the light, just shadows, but I saw them. They were...wrong. The way they moved, the way their bodies fit together. I don't think they were human. They did something, and I couldn't move. Stiff as a board I was. They gathered around me, all shifting and slippery, and they did...things. They did things to me, sir." He shuddered. "I can't even talk about it. They had this probe, and they—"
"Here you are, gentlemen! Two carrot cakes with extra icing and flowers, a large pitcher of water with a bit of winter apple for flavor, and some tea! You just let me know if there's—"
"Why are you spying on us?! Get out!" Kagome paused. "Leave the cake, though."
The waiter went pale and set everything down with shaking hands. "Yes sir. Very sorry, sir. I'll be leaving, sir."
"Good. And no more spying!"
"No sir! Of course not, sir! We'll leave you alone, sir. Just open the door and call if you want anything, sir."
Kagome watched suspiciously until the man had left, then turned back to his new friend. "So. These lupchanzen disguised as Watchers. They did stuff to you, and then they left?"
"Yes sir. They did stuff to me, and then they clicked and hissed at each other. I couldn't understand most of it, except for the phrase 'Not good enough'." He shrugged. "They left, and eventually I was able to move again. And after that I kept my eyes open. I hadn't heard about them yet, so I didn't know what I was looking for, but that didn't stop me from seeing them. I caught sight of them a few times. They're fast—usually it was just a little flicker out of the corner of my eye, but a couple of times I saw them plain as day. Mostly wriggly little things, each one different. They all had weird mouths and teeth, but they were different colors and different sizes. They could turn invisible; I saw them do it three times, right in front of me. There one minute, gone the next.
"There were other things, too. We started getting strangers in town every few weeks. They disguised themselves as merchants, but where were the old merchants, huh? Huh?! Nowhere! Old Sugano had been coming to our town for twenty years, and suddenly he disappears? I don't think so! Then the miller got this new kind of stone for his mill—deep red, with bits of gray and shiny flecks all through it, and these half-moon cuts on the surface. He claimed it was better than his old one, but I knew the truth—it was poisoning the flour! Everyone knows that the half moon is bad luck."
Kagome nodded. That was a well-known fact. No competent sealmaster would risk an infusion under a half moon. Or a flowering willow tree. Or in a thunderstorm.
"Anything else?"
"Yes! I spoke to one of the neighbors about what I was seeing. Thought maybe he could help me figure it out. A week later his house burned down, with him inside it. And I know that the government"—he sneered the words—"knew what was going on. A ninja went through, stayed in Mother Nana's house overnight. Six months after that, there's suddenly ninja everywhere, looking angry and searching everything. The lupchanzen hid too well, because the government men didn't find anything. They left, but after that there were more ninja going through all the time. Every few days. Not all of them were ours, either. We had foreign ones, with four slashes on their headbands. Never seen anything like it. Nobody said anything, of course. We just kept our heads down and were extra polite. Good thing too, because they were testing people."
Kagome snorted. "Lupchanzen are way too smart to be caught like that."
Chie nodded emphatically. "I know! Oh, they sacrificed a few pawns, just to throw off suspicion. Tsujiura got caught smuggling. Smuggling! Most honest guy you've ever met, and I'm supposed to believe he's a smuggler? Pfah!
"I'll tell you the weirdest thing, though. About a week after those ninja came swarming through, Yazaki—he owns our general store—starts acting weird. Asking lots of questions...trying to be casual, but pushy about it. I'd seen the lupchanz in his store twice, and his cat had been eyeing me with hate in its eyes, so I was watching close. Right about when he got all nosy, he started selling books! Really cheap, too. Who ever heard of a cheap book?" He leaned in close. "It was all the kids buying them. The kids and some of the wives. They tried to hide that they had them, and they denied it when I called them out. I went and bought a couple, just to see what it was all about. I'm pretty sure it was one of those code things. The pages were for crap, practically fell apart in my hands. The pictures were sloppy, with weird ink lines around the edges that didn't mean anything. Whoever wrote them wasn't human, either. No one draws their kanji like that—exactly the same every time, not the slightest variation." He hesitated, then hurried to correct himself. "Well, that's not quite right. Sometimes they would be darker or lighter, and the extra dots and lines around the edges were sometimes different." He leaned in farther, voice dropping to a whisper. "It was a code, I'm sure of it. Messages from their secret headquarters, telling them all what to do."
Kagome nodded. "It makes sense. The conspiracy needs to coordinate somehow."
Chie looked relieved. "You believe me?"
"Of course!"
"Oh, thank you thank you thank you. Please, can you help save my brother?"
Kagome hesitated. "I'm sorry," he said at last. "Once a lupchanz takes you, there's no coming back. Your brother is gone."
Chie's face fell. "Are you sure? There's no chance?"
"I'm sorry." Fidget, fidget. "I'm sure he was a nice guy."
Chie sniffed and swiped at his eyes. "He was the best. The best brother you could ask for."
"Have some cake. It helps." He pushed one of the plates over.
Chie stared at the treat as though he couldn't remember what it was for. Kagome nudged it a bit closer; the farmer picked it up and took a bite, then set it down.
"What do you know about these lupchanzen? Maybe there's a way to save their victims after all."
Kagome sighed and shook his head. "The reports are sketchy. They're small—the one I saw was about the size of your thumb. They crawl in through a hole, usually an ear, and eat your brain, getting all your knowledge in the process. Then they pilot your body like a meat suit. They can use your jutsu and your fighting skills." He hesitated, biting his lip. "There's more, but it's hard stuff, and it won't help you. Are you sure you want to hear it?" He waited for Chie's vehement nod before continuing. "All right. I think the person is probably still alive inside their body, at least a little bit and for a little while. No one has ever been rescued, though. Never."
Chie frowned. "They get bigger than that. I saw one that was as big as a child. A big child. It was all black and watching me from the shadows of the trees at the edge of our field."
Kagome looked alarmed. "A big child? I've never heard of one that big. I mean, I've only seen the one, and I didn't get a good look before they whisked it away. I think they might have gotten to the doctors."
"You saw one?!"
"Yep. They brought this Rock ninja's body in and did an autopsy. I was in the intelligence department and got to watch. They cracked his head open and sectioned up his brain. I think the lupchanz must have been dead, or maybe they just got lucky and cut through it before it could do anything, because it didn't move when they sliced it out of him. That was the last part of the autopsy and everything got whisked out of there almost immediately. I never got to see it again no matter how much I asked."
Chie's face lit up. "If it was that small then maybe we could cut it out of my brother! Our doctor has drilled holes in people's heads before, to let the evil spirits out, and not all of them died. And you're part of the Gōketsu, and Lady Tsunade is your Clan Leader's sister! With her help, maybe we could save him!"
A/N: This is a fake chapter posted for April Fool"s Day 2019.
-o-
How had it come to this? Yes, the night had started out ominously, but for a while, it seemed like everything was going to be under control. People were mixing. Confrontations were being defused by more level-headed participants (having access to jōnin hand-picked for their ability to function in a foreign village really helped). Discovering the concept of gaming for the first time was exciting, and helped distract the gamers from the fact that each side's relatives had spent a good century or more killing the other's. Yes, it wasn't everything he'd hoped for, but the chaos had been more or less manageable, and so far there hadn't been any literal bloodshed.
So how had it come to this?
All of the games, all of them, from Strategic Dominance to the Chains of the Witch King adventure module, to freaking Yakuza, had somehow merged into a single metagame with a complex amalgam of rules that allowed every single attendant to play with or against each other at the same time. And guess who was running it.
No, Hazō knew how it had come to this. His mind flashed back to
-Φ-
The door slammed open. Hazō's flashback was cut off as if severed by a blade.
"You're all here. Good."
Hazō recognised that voice. Even though, despite everything, he'd only heard it once before in his life, he knew it to be the voice of primal fear. No matter who Hazō became, no matter how well he learned to laugh at the antics of his past, there would always be a part of him that refused to forget. Right now, that voice meant only one thing.
Momochi Zabuza had crashed the party.
He'd brought his sword.
"Captain Zabuza!" a chirpy voice broke the paralysed silence. "I was so sure you wouldn't make it. Here, grab a seat next to… Nara, and I'll give you a quick run-down of the rules while Teams Platypus and Garden Eel are finishing off their turn spiral."
"Mori. Shut up."
In the second most shocking development of the night, Mori shut up.
"I'm not here to play games," Momochi growled. "I've had enough of games. I've had enough of politics. I've had enough of lies. My comrades, the best men and women in Mist, are dead. The politicians don't get to brush that away because the truth is inconvenient. Tonight, you're going to hear everything that happened. And who was responsible for it all."
Hazō realised in a burst of horror exactly what Momochi was about to tell the world. The true events of that battle were classified beyond imagination. The only people in Leaf who knew were those present at the fateful clan heads' meeting. And of those people, Lord Hyūga had chosen not to attend the gaming night at all, while the other two had eventually bowed out, citing (probably Mori-related) headaches.
There was a reason those events were classified. How would the people at large, both civilian and ninja, react if they learned that the other side of the prospective alliance had just massacred all of their heroes? How would they react if they learned that the other side had lured Uzumaki and Yagura respectively to their doom? Most importantly, how would they react if they learned that their leaders had chosen to pretend it all away in order to make friends with the enemy, and in so doing boost their personal political status?
A permanent end to the possibility of alliance would be a given. But the consequences beyond that were unpredictable. Villages betrayed by their new leaders. The enforcers on whom the state's power rested suddenly all dead. Nothing like this had ever happened before, and any theoretical texts on the subjects of civil unrest, or even insurrection, had always been burned on sight and their authors disappeared. And even in the best-case scenario, either every foreigner present would have to be imprisoned or killed—while under Chūnin Exam peace treaty—or the other villages would find out that Leaf and Mist had just suffered catastrophic military losses.
Jiraiya, the only person in the room who could do anything about this, looked completely unconcerned. He was fully in-character still, obviously as interested as anyone in this grand revelation that had nothing to do with him personally. Hazō had no idea how he could stop Momochi from that position. Any public attempt to silence someone about to reveal a conspiracy would instantly implicate Jiraiya as a member of that conspiracy. But if anyone could pull it off…
"I may have to stop you there," Jiraiya said mildly. "If the Mizukage has ruled these topics highly classified, as I believe she has, it could cause a major diplomatic incident for you to tell us without her permission. I, for one, can't afford that when I have urgent business waiting for me in Leaf."
A pretext—something of a flimsy one, but definitely a pretext—for Jiraiya to take action against Momochi in an aggressive but fundamentally non-hostile way. Hazō didn't often get to see Jiraiya at work in his natural environment of subtle diplomacy, as opposed to the cutthroat politics that had been thrust upon him, and it was beautiful to see a master at work.
However, people's eyes were still narrowing in suspicion.
"We'll still be here if you go and come back with her permission," Jiraiya said, casually defusing it. "It's not like I'm not curious about what you have to say."
"Shut up, Hokage."
Thirty people flinched.
"You don't have the authority to enforce Mist law. If you so much as lay a finger on me, that's your diplomatic incident right there. In a room full of people."
A none-too-polite reminder that if Jiraiya used violence, the friendly fire could be catastrophic.
"Here are the facts," the ultimate hunter-nin raised his voice.
"It was a trap. And the ones who set us up, the ones responsible for all this—"
The door slammed open. Momochi whipped round instantly, sword in hand.
An apparently unarmed man stumbled in, looking like he could fall over any second.
Thank the Sage and all his many brothers.
Jiraiya flicked his eyes to one of the ANBU, and the woman took off at a dead run. Aunt Ren would be here in minutes. Hazō almost regretted not inviting her.
Until then, all Jiraiya had to do was take whatever the man was about to tell him and use it to stall for time. Child's play for the master diplomat.
"Sunohara?" Jiraiya asked with a confused frown that probably masked massive relief. "What could be important enough to make you come all the way here in person?"
"They've taken Gaara," Sunohara said heavily. "We are out of time."
-o-
What do you do?
Voting closes on Wednesday 3rd of April, 4 p.m. London time. Note the extended deadline.
"We were naïve. We acted as if these peaceful days would last forever, as if the universe would move according to our schedule. We paid dearly for that belief."
Hazō nodded grimly. That was how it always began.
"They came from above. Winged shadows raining down destruction. The whole village was ablaze before we even knew what was going on. So many losses, so many good people dead in just the opening minutes. So few survivors."
He shuddered at the sheer bitterness of that voice. This wasn't the first time he'd heard the words spoken, nor was his the first group to hear them, but they had never been infused with so much hatred, or so much pain.
"There is only one blessing that we gained from this disaster. We know where they live now. We know where to strike. And with our homes turned to ash, we have nothing left to us but revenge. Tonight, we prepare. Tomorrow, we strike!"
But there was a note of wrongness here. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Wasn't it too late to hear those words? Or perhaps too soon?
Nara rose from his seat.
"Isn't that the introduction from the final chapter of Chains of the Witch King? I remember it, as it took almost half an hour to clear during the previous gaming night. But Gōketsu Noburi said that tonight we were doing the first chapter, the level 1 adventure titled Scouting the Goblin Lair."
"Pfft, goblins." The girl across the table waved a hand as if to shoo away something goat-sized. "Goblins are boring. Are you telling me you'd rather give up the high-level dragonslaying goodness in favour of fighting goblins?"
Hazō suppressed a miserable sigh. How had it come to this?
No, Hazō knew how it had come to this.
-o-
"Ami," Hazō said with a wary smile. "Come on in—what in the name of Yagura's ill-fated haircut is that?"
Mori appeared to be holding up some kind of large, vaguely oval object in one hand.
Upon closer examination, the object turned out to be a dangling teenage girl in a black coat. Mori had her lifted by the collar like a cat carrying a kitten, which said worrying things about her muscle strength.
"I brought gifts!" Mori said with a cheerful smile, demonstratively raising the girl a little higher while holding up a box marked with "perishable goods" and "this way up" in her other hand.
She finally put her victim down in front of him.
"This is Keiko's other plus one."
"Does she know?" Hazō asked despite already knowing the answer.
"She will in a minute, which is almost the same thing."
"Thank you for being about to invite me," the other girl said demurely. "My name is Yuki Yukino, but I don't like it, so just call me Yukino. Ami kidnapped me."
"She was wandering around town with no particular destination," Ami said, "and I happened to run across her on my way here."
"It was just outside my house," Yukino clarified. "Which is at the other end of the village."
"Don't worry, I left a ransom note. Captain Zabuza knows what he has to do if she's not back by morning."
Suddenly Hazō was very grateful that he was about to travel halfway across the continent from this woman.
"But forget the details. I just figured that since you're both adopted missing-nin with parchment-thin cover stories, you'd get on like a village on fire. Besides, Yukino's all lonely since Captain Zabuza won't help her integrate with her new peer group, and she has a broad emotional range which she's been constraining out of respect for his feelings, so unless she's given a chance to express and explore different facets of her personality in a social setting, we can expect to see her needs giving rise to pathological behaviours that will only make future acceptance more difficult."
"We just met an hour ago," Yukino said brightly.
"So what exactly is your relationship with Captain Zabuza?" Hazō asked cautiously.
"I'm his apprentice, assistant and eventual significant other! He's resisting that last one, but it's only a matter of time. I've never failed to seduce a man I set my sights on!"
There were multiple ways of reading that statement, but Hazō wasn't going to go there.
"So," Yukino said, "Ami says you have board games. We didn't have those in Snow. Is the board a physical weapon? Do you use it to keep score? Is it a tool the way playing cards are tools? Or maybe it's one of those special boards you put sacred altars on, and it's really a blasphemy competition? Will there be drinks? Free drinks? Where do I put my coat? It's full of weapons—can you believe you can just buy explosives here?—so it would probably be a bad idea for other people to touch it. Oh, that reminds me, at some point I'm going to have to kill you all for what you did to Zabuza. Nothing personal, just some things are beyond forgiveness. I hope we'll be the best of friends, and I'm really looking forward to playing games with you, and obviously I didn't get to see much of the tournament, but the thing with the pangolins was really cool, and I have ever so many questions about that. Oh, but you never answered my question about the drinks!"
"There will be drinks," Hazō said, latching on to the one piece of sanity he'd been able to get out of that torrent of enthusiasm.
"Oh, good," Yukino said in a relieved voice. "I've ended up missing my evening tea with Zabuza, and he gets cranky when that happens, which is to say he looks and acts exactly the same, but I can tell because we're so close. Also I'm not at my best when I'm thirsty—it was never a problem in Snow—and Ami says if you don't make it to the end of the game, you don't get to eat the spiced chocolate. Then again," Yukino leaned in, putting a hand next to her face in a conspiratory fashion, "just between you and me, I think she's making half this stuff up as she goes along just to see what happens."
"See?" Ami grinned. "She gets me. I can't make her my apprentice because Captain Zabuza's got dibs, but I'm thinking maybe I could adopt her? Keiko could do with another big sister, and having Captain Zabuza as a brother in-law a few years down the line would be the best thing ever. Plus it would have the elders tearing their hair out, which is always a good thing in my book."
Hazō envisioned a Mori-Yukino-Zabuza alliance. Maybe he should think about sabotaging the negotiations just so he'd be sure never to visit that version of Mist.
"You know, by your rules, a plus one is technically a guest in their own right," Ami said as she crossed the threshold of his dwelling at his invitation. "On a completely unrelated note, what's this building's maximum capacity?"
-o-
"Who, me?" Noburi laughed. "Please. You can see my barrel right over there in the corner. I couldn't use ninjutsu even if I wanted to."
He decided not to touch on the subject of his hip flask, or the fact that his hand was resting on his partner's leg under the table. The poor girl was beetroot red, but the constant stream of chakra was helping her concentrate on the genjutsu more than the means of its conveyance was distracting her.
"He's right," a player across the table said, glassy-eyed. "All the pieces on the board are exactly where they've always been. Exactly where they've always been."
"Once this party's done," Kotatsu, or whatever his name was today, quietly said, "you and I are going to have words about how you've been treating my teammate."
"Actually," the girl told him, "Gōketsu and I have plans for after the party. I'll catch up."
Kotatsu went his own kind of red, which suited Noburi just fine. Six weeks was too long to go without Hyūga to mock, and for tonight, the Hot Springs boy would do as an inferior substitute. The fact that the distraction was letting Matsumoto quietly slide her meeple across the entire table was just a bonus.
-o-
Ryōichi was increasingly regretting taking part in the event. Obviously, he couldn't have refused to attend a party endorsed by the Hokage himself (who was presently sitting in a corner, nursing a bottle of something that most certainly wasn't juice). And he understood that the entire visit was supposed to be an opportunity for reconciliation between ancient enemies. But still…
"Don't you dare lie to me, Leaf dog!" Minawa hissed at him, not for the first time. "Your preta were not consuming Vegetables last turn! If you think I'm going to stand by and let this insult to the Village Hidden in the Hot Springs stand—"
Ryōichi raised his hands. "Peace, peace. If you don't believe me, why don't we just replay it starting with the previous round? You can go first this time if you think it's fairer," O raving Hot Springs lunatic.
Ryōichi risked a glance across the room, seeking inspiration in the more patient, honey-tongued members of the Leaf party.
"You want to call me that again, Sand bitch?" Yamanaka Ino screeched, her face mere centimetres from another girl's. "Use that word one more time, and I swear to the Will of Fire I'll make sure you never—"
She froze, her speech cutting off sharply, then took an awkward step back. The fury in her eyes did not dim. If anything, it deepened.
"What my teammate means to say," Akimichi said smoothly, "is that that while we all have our differences, we should be patient with each other, and set our personal conflicts aside for just one night."
Another Sand-nin put her arm firmly on the Sand bitch's shoulder and began to steer her away.
"But Tsukiko, did you hear what she was implying?"
"I know," the other girl said, not letting go of the shoulder. "Half the foreigners in here can't open their mouths without flaunting how superior they are to us poor deprived Sand-nin. One day they'll all pay for it, but for now, let's just go play some more games. I don't want to get flattened by the Hokage or sent to Mist T&I."
-o-
"BWAHAHAHAHA!" Mori bellowed. "FOOLS, KRAVNOS THE MERCHANT WAS MY MINION ALL ALONG. NOW YOU HAVE FALLEN INTO MY CUNNING—"
Hazō held up a hand. "I'd like to act while the Oni Overlord is focusing on his villain monologue."
"Ooh. Go on."
"Since the Oni Overlord is monologuing, he counts as Distracted, right?"
"Mmm."
"I step out of the shadows and kick him in the face. Since I'm attacking from stealth and he's Distracted, that's an automatic critical." Hazō took a spare d20 and demonstratively set it to 20. He rolled more dice. "That's… 10 damage."
"Cool."
"I use my Lucky Snout racial ability to mirror one die I rolled this round. That's a double critical."
"Sure is."
"I shatter the Hand Mirror of Fate I got from the Cursed Ruins, doubling my damage roll. That's a quadruple critical now."
"Absolutely."
"Now, I have Assassin III, and no other dice have been rolled yet this combat, so that triples my damage again."
"Indeed."
"I also get a 50% bonus from the Oni Slayer perk."
"So you do."
"Another 50% because I'm within range of the paladin aura. Would be 25%, but I get double aura bonuses thanks to the blessing of the Goddess of Love and Peace."
"And finally?"
"And finally," Hazō said triumphantly, "I use the Power Surge bonus ability to double the damage one last time. The Oni Overlord takes 540 damage."
"The Oni Overlord staggers back, eyes wide. 'HOW CAN A MORTAL WIELD SUCH POWER?! AM I WITNESSING THE RISE OF A NASCENT GOD?"
Hazō smirked.
"OF COURSE," Mori added, "THE ONLY THING MORE BEAUTIFUL THAN WITNESSING THE RISE OF A GOD… IS WITNESSING ITS FALL.
"You notice a small sapphire ring on one of its fingers flicker brightly. The Oni Overlord grins with a mouth full of jagged fangs."
Hazō turned pale. "Don't tell me. It's wearing a Lesser Ring of Protection from Traps."
"What's a lesser ring of protection from traps?" Doigama asked off-handedly as he sorted through his spell list one last time.
"A minor magical item from the Tricks and Trinkets supplement," Hazō said in a hollow voice. "The next time you take physical damage, it is immediately turned into healing, with any remainder becoming temporary hit points. Useless in combat against anything that deals non-physical damage, or multiple instances of damage, or has minions, or uses damage-over-time effects, or throws a rock at you."
"He had Kravnos learn your tactics on that fake escort mission through the Haunted Forest," Mori said absently as she added an extra zero to the Oni Overlord's hit point total.
"The Oni Overlord acts next because you've initiated a surprise round. It brings its hands together and gazes at the heavens as if in penitence.
'GENTLE REBUKE!'"
"Gōketsu?" Hyūga asked.
"It's an obscure 1st-level spell from the Arcana Entombed supplement," Hazō said distantly. "When somebody deals damage to you, everybody in the area of effect takes 10% of that damage rounded down, which can't be blocked, dodged or reduced. Doesn't work if the blow kills you."
"That's completely useless," Doigama observed after a second's thought. "If you want to pierce your enemy with a kunai, you have to take a ballista to the face and stay on your feet."
"I thought it was pretty neat," Mori said. "Everyone, take 54 unblockable, undodgeable, irreducible damage. Survivors, roll for initiative."
On reflection, he should have seen this coming the second she asked to be called Dungeon Keeper Ami.
-o-
Kei gazed despondently into the middle distance. Ami was somewhere else, tormenting someone else—she could hear the same people's alternating cheers of triumph and screams of agony across the room—and there was a glaringly empty space by Kei's side. Well, technically, there was some shinobi from Hot Springs sitting there, but he was not Tenten and therefore irrelevant. She had never missed her girlfriend as much as at this moment, when they were not seated side by side, or as close as Kei's weakness would allow, and not conspiring to crush the other players' souls through ruthless plotting and meticulous optimisation. Not taking comfort from their secret bond, nor from Tenten's statistically improbable dice results. Here, she could only be alone, left to compete with those not chained by the Frozen Skein in their planning.
She was not as weak as she had once been, it had to be admitted. Ami had spoken truly—intense passion could, for a time, restore some measure of humanity even to the likes of her. But it could not be forced, could not be relied on… and the backlash was entirely unpredictable. In a way, she was almost afraid to call upon it. Ultimate dispassion led one to the Garden of the Lost. What if something similar lurked in the other direction, consuming those who dared to surrender themselves to emotion? It would explain a great deal.
On the other side of the hall, Anna carried out her bidding, unaware how fragile Kei's ability to bestow it truly was. In time, she would present her findings on the human relationships Kei could not recognise herself, on the effects of different kinds of third-party intervention and the feelings aroused by acceptance or rejection from different kinds of person. Needless to say, Anna's approach to data collection, and the manner in which she presented the results, would also be a display of how she guessed at the insides of people's hearts, and therefore would unknowingly bare her own.
She had made the pact of her own free will, and Kei would have her due.
-o-
"How confident am I of a future positive relationship with Ami? 4/7."
"How do I think this conversation impacted on my level of sanity? 7/7."
"How likely do I feel I am to marry Ami? 6/7."
"How I satisfied am I with how Ami delivered promised goods and/or services during this conversation? 3/7."
"How likely am I to use Ami again? 6/7."
"How attracted am I to Ami despite my better judgement? 3/7." (There was a scribbled note next to this saying, "Must try harder", with no indication of whom it referred to.)
"How confident am I that Ami is not secretly plotting against me based on this interaction? 4/7."
"Am I satisfied with how genuine Ami was was during the interaction? 7/7."
The worst part was that this could easily be Mori's equivalent of flirting.
-o-
"Saya," Yukino whispered, "tactical analysis."
"Ino-Shika-Chō are pressing us from the west with five cultists," Saya whispered back. "They believe that they can roll at least three hits so they can overwhelm our defences and absorb our Noodle before Lord Inuzuka can steal our Tea with his summoned badger."
"Aya, strategic policy."
"We should totally go for that guy whose name I forgot, the shifty-looking one. That'll take the pressure off that team with the Hot Springs guy, the one with all the blood, and he can attack Ino-Shika-Chō for us. Also Lady Gōketsu's been staring into the distance for a while. Maybe we can take her stuff and use it as a wall between us and Lord Inuzuka before she notices."
Yukino nodded. "I promised Ami chaos, and chaos is what I'll deliver.
"Lady Hyūga, I'm throwing our summoned ape into your lake."
Lady Hyūga was silent for a second. "Why would you… in the first place, it isn't my lake."
"Pfft. You were totally eyeing it. I can tell that kind of thing."
"Yukino, it is physically impossible for you to tell what I'm eyeing."
"Oh, so you admit it! Anyway, I have predator sense, and you were going to predate on it."
"How does one predate on a lake?" Lady Hyūga put a hand to her forehead, not the first time this game. "Lakes aren't even conquerable territory. I don't think you can keep an ape there."
"I'm not conquering. The ape is in transit. It'll be fine as long as I find somewhere to put it before the end of the round."
Lady Hyūga sighed. "Fine, the ape is thrown in the lake. Anything else?"
"Our cultists pull out of Noodle to move into Moon and attack the shifty-looking guy."
"The name is Aburame Shino."
"Right. Shifty. You don't mind if I call you that, right? Easier to remember."
"In addition, your action violates the rules. Why? Because Noodle and Moon do not share a border."
"That's fine. We have precedent. I take my cultists and throw them into the Kanashii Ocean. They can swim, by the way. They practised."
"You can't just—"
"Sure, I can. They're in transit to Moon. Now I play this card to set them on fire, this card to make them go berserk, and then finish transiting them. You're welcome, Blood Guy!"
"This is a flagrant violation of the rules," Shifty muttered.
"No, it isn't! The rules clearly state that a piece occupying an illegal position has to be moved to the nearest legal space immediately, which is anywhere on the Kanashii Ocean."
"So you admit they were in an illegal position."
"Sure. That's why I had to move them."
Shifty stared at her for a while, then leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. Yukino gave the two girls high-fives.
She pivoted around. "Hey, Nara! We're prepared to give you Tea before Inuzuka can get it."
"You are?" Nara said warily.
"Sure. While we were waiting for our turn, I drew up a ten-point negotiation document we have to go over. Saya helped with the long words."
"But I did the writing because I have the best calligraphy," Aya added.
Yukino threw the scroll at Nara.
"Point 1," he read out slowly. "On the strategic realignment of territorial borders in the countries bordering Rain, with reference to troop dispositions in the South Kaijū Ocean."
"Zabuza says you need to know political geography because hunter-nin have to avoid getting caught up in local conflicts or fights over jurisdiction. It's boooring."
"Troublesome," Nara muttered as he preemptively slumped in his chair.
-o-
How had it come to this? Yes, the night had started out ominously, but for a while, it seemed like everything was going to be under control. People were mixing. Confrontations were being defused by more level-headed participants (having access to jōnin hand-picked for their ability to function in a foreign village really helped). Discovering the concept of gaming for the first time was exciting, and helped distract the gamers from the fact that each side's relatives had spent a good century or more killing the other's. Yes, it wasn't everything he'd hoped for, but the chaos had been more or less manageable, and so far there hadn't been any literal bloodshed.
So how had it come to this?
All of the games, all of them, from Strategic Dominance to the Chains of the Witch King adventure module, to freaking Yakuza, had somehow merged into a single metagame with a complex amalgam of rules that allowed every single attendant to play with or against each other at the same time. And guess who was running it.
No, Hazō knew how it had come to this. His mind flashed back to
-Φ-
The door slammed open. Hazō's flashback was cut off as if severed by a blade.
"You're all here. Good."
Hazō recognised that voice. Even though, despite everything, he'd only heard it once before in his life, he knew it to be the voice of primal fear. No matter who Hazō became, no matter how well he learned to laugh at the antics of his past, there would always be a part of him that refused to forget. Right now, that voice meant only one thing.
Momochi Zabuza had crashed the party.
He'd brought his sword.
"Captain Zabuza!" a chirpy voice broke the paralysed silence. "I was so sure you wouldn't make it. Here, grab a seat next to… Nara, and I'll give you a quick run-down of the rules while Teams Platypus and Garden Eel are finishing off their turn spiral."
"Mori. Shut up."
In the second most shocking development of the night, Mori shut up.
"I'm not here to play games," Momochi growled. "I've had enough of games. I've had enough of politics. I've had enough of lies. My comrades, the best men and women in Mist, are dead. The politicians don't get to brush that away because the truth is inconvenient. Tonight, you're going to hear everything that happened. And who was responsible for it all."
Hazō realised in a burst of horror exactly what Captain Zabuza was about to tell the world. The true events of that battle were classified beyond imagination. The only people in Leaf who knew were those present at the fateful clan heads' meeting. And of those people, Lord Hyūga had chosen not to attend the gaming night at all, while the other two had eventually bowed out, citing (probably Mori-related) headaches.
There was a reason those events were classified. How would the people at large, both civilian and ninja, react if they learned that the other side of the prospective alliance had just massacred all of their heroes? How would they react if they learned that the other side had lured Uzumaki and Yagura respectively to their doom? Most importantly, how would they react if they learned that their leaders had chosen to pretend it all away in order to make friends with the enemy, and in a way that happened to politically benefit them as individuals?
A permanent end to the possibility of alliance would be a given. But the consequences beyond that were unpredictable. Villages betrayed by their new leaders. The enforcers on whom the state's power rested suddenly all dead. Nothing like this had ever happened before, and any theoretical texts on the subjects of civil unrest and insurrection had always been burned on sight and their authors disappeared. And even in the best-case scenario, either every foreigner present would have to be imprisoned or killed—while under Chūnin Exam peace treaty—or the other villages would find out that Leaf and Mist had just suffered catastrophic military losses.
Jiraiya, the only person in the room who could do anything about this, looked completely unconcerned. He was fully in-character still, obviously as interested as anyone in this grand revelation that had nothing to do with him personally. Hazō had no idea how he could stop Captain Zabuza from that position. Any public attempt to silence someone about to reveal a conspiracy would instantly implicate Jiraiya as a member of that conspiracy. But if anyone could pull it off…
"I may have to stop you there," Jiraiya said mildly. "If the Mizukage has ruled these topics highly classified, as I believe she has, it could cause a major diplomatic incident for you to tell us without her permission. I, for one, can't afford that when I have urgent business waiting for me in Leaf."
A pretext—something of a flimsy one, but definitely a pretext—for Jiraiya to take action against Captain Zabuza in an aggressive but fundamentally non-hostile way. Hazō didn't often get to see Jiraiya at work in his natural environment of subtle diplomacy, as opposed to the cutthroat politics that had been thrust upon him, and it was beautiful to see a master at work.
However, people's eyes were still narrowing in suspicion.
"We'll still be here if you go and come back with her permission," Jiraiya said, casually defusing it. "It's not like I'm not curious about what you have to say."
"Shut up, Hokage."
Thirty people flinched.
"You don't have the authority to enforce Mist law. If you so much as lay a finger on me, that's your diplomatic incident right there. In a room full of people."
A none-too-polite reminder that if Jiraiya used violence, the friendly fire could be catastrophic.
"Here are the facts," the ultimate hunter-nin raised his voice.
"It was a trap. And the ones who set us up, the ones responsible for all this—"
The door slammed open. Captain Zabuza whipped round instantly, sword in hand.
An apparently unarmed man stumbled in, looking like he could fall over any second.
Thank the Sage and all his many brothers.
Jiraiya flicked his eyes to one of the ANBU, and the woman took off at a dead run. Aunt Ren would be here in minutes. Hazō almost regretted not inviting her.
Until then, all Jiraiya had to do was take whatever the man was about to tell him and use it to stall for time. Child's play for the master diplomat.
"Sunohara?" Jiraiya asked with a confused frown that probably masked massive relief. "What could be important enough to make you come all the way here in person?"
"They've taken Gaara," Sunohara said heavily. "We are out of time."
-o-
You have received 3 XP.
-o-
What do you do?
Voting closes on Saturday 6th of April, 9 a.m. New York Time.
Last edited:
Interlude: Honoka's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day
Interlude: Honoka's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day
"No, that's wrong."
Honoka frowned. "But sensei said—"
"I don't care what your freak of a tutor said! In this room, I am your sensei and what I say is right! Six demerits! Get up here!"
Honoka pushed herself to her feet, struggling not to cry as she walked to the front of the room where Teacher-Stinker was already taking the switch out of the desk. Without being told, she turned to face the class and held out her hands at chest level, palms up and fingers together with her thumbs carefully pushed down as much as possible.
"Why are you being punished?!"
That was a tough one, actually. She was pretty sure that 'because you were wrong and I said so' was not what Teacher-Stinker was looking for.
"Um—"
"Because you disrespected me! Students must respect their sensei! Say it!"
"Yes, sensei. I am being punished because I disrespected you. Students must respect their sensei."
The switch came down with all the force of an adult ninja's arm.
o-o-o-o
"There she is."
"What a weirdo." / "Thinks she knows more than the teacher; talk about stuck-up." / "So ill-mannered." / "What do you expect from a mudfoot?"
Honoka bit her lip and tried not to sniffle as she collected her food. She most definitely did not allow herself to turn and look at who was whispering. It was probably some combination of the usual suspects—Hyūga and her sycophants. Some of the words didn't bother her—she did think she knew more than Teacher-Stinker, at least in a few places. Kagome-sensei was a way better teacher than Stinker, Poopyhead, or any of the rest. Well, except maybe for Umino-sensei. Umino-sensei knew what she was talking about.
Being called a mudfoot, though...that hurt. Yes, her parents were civilians, but Honoka was a ninja, darn it! She earned her spot in the Academy, and she was already a better ninja than a lot of the whisperers! She could operate storage seals, and set off puffers—usually in her hand, but still. Could Hyūga operate a storage seal?
Well, actually, yes. She probably could. Cheating Hyūga stinkers with their cheating stinking bloodline cheating.
Still.
The whispers followed her as she made her way to an empty table and sat down to eat. It was hard; the welt on her palms made it painful to close her hands, much less use something that required as much fine motor control as chopsticks.
"Oh look, it's the mudfoot. Hi, mudfoot."
Honoka said nothing and kept her eyes on her food, hoping they would go away.
"Look, she can't even eat properly! I guess you can't really expect a softfoot to be able to teach basic manners to its spawn."
Honoka's head came up, eyes blazing, and she started to push herself to her feet...and then winced as the pressure of her palms on the table sent a lance of eye-watering pain through her.
"Oh, look, she's going to cry," said Nakamura with a grin.
"Be nice, Nakamura," Saito scolded. "She's doing her best. You can't expect a mudfoot to have any sort of self-discipline."
She wanted to scream at them, 'I am not a mudfoot!', but she didn't. After all, she was. A ninja with civilian parents was, by definition, a mudfoot. Even if she learned water-walking right this second and never again had to touch mud, she would still be a mudfoot. After all, a civilian-born ninja would never have the same level of skills as a clan ninja, right? Everyone knew that.
The tears began to flow despite her best efforts, and so she jumped to her feet and ran for the bathroom, pushing her way past the other girls. The worst part was that it just proved them right; she had never seen a clan child crying in public.
o-o-o-o
Kagome frowned. The flood of children exiting the school gates had slowed, trickled, and then stopped, and he was still un-glomped. He gave it another five count, then strode to the central building, idly noting that his blastrings had somehow appeared on his hands.
Long habit had his head on a swivel, checking through the windows of the various classrooms as he moved down the central hall towards the main office. Empty. Empty. Empty. Empty.
Not empty.
He jolted to a halt and stepped closer to get a better look. There were six children inside, heads down, industriously writing in their notebooks. Honoka was in the third row, second chair from the right. A thirty-ish brunette dressed in grey sat behind the desk at the front of the room doing her own work.
He frowned. School hours were over and Honoka hadn't said anything about extra tutoring. What in the name of every sealing failure was she still doing here? More importantly, did he dare interrupt?
He thought for a moment, then shrugged. They weren't researching seals, jutsu, or medical techniques, and they weren't practicing trapmaking or ordinance disposal. It shouldn't matter if they were distracted for a moment. He tapped carefully on the window.
The teacher's head came up in surprise. She said something to the class and then came out into the hall, closing the door quietly behind herself.
"May I help you?"
"What is that?"
One eyebrow went up. "Detention, of course."
Kagome frowned. "Why is Honoka in detention?"
The teacher thought for a second, then nodded as the name connected. "Yamamoto, yes. She disrespected Takahashi-sensei in his history class today. He awarded her six demerits and she already had four this week. Then, during lunch she attacked one of the other girls, earning her five more."
What.
Start with the simple part and work forward toward the impossible part. "Four? Is that a lot?"
The teacher laughed, and then realized that he was serious. "Excuse me, sir...who are you?"
"Never you m...." He paused. It was okay to say it now, right? The name was supposed to have respect. "Gōketsu Kagome. I'm her tutor."
"Oh! Mr. Gōketsu, it's an honor, sir!" She bowed deeply. "Please excuse me, for not recognizing you; I had not expected to meet one of Lord Hokage's family at detention and you aren't wearing your crest."
"Why would I wear the crest? It's a big target on your center of mass. Well, the one on your back. The one on your front is right over your heart. Stupid design either way."
The teacher blinked in shock. "Stu...uh." She stopped and visibly forced herself to change gears. "Is there anything I could help you with, sir?"
"What's this about demerits? Is four a lot?"
She almost visibly started to say 'oh, that's right, you weren't born here' and then swallowed the words. "Yes sir, that's a lot for only Tuesday. At five demerits the student must stay in detention. At ten they receive a stroke of the switch. Earning thirty in one month means a flogging."
The world stuttered and Kagome suddenly found himself with his left hand around the teacher's throat, pinning her against the wall. His right hand was pressing the blastring against her forehead with his thumb in firing position.
"Sir, please, stop!" the teacher cried, face pale as she scrabbled at his arm. A tiny fragment of his mind noted that she lacked the musculature and coordination that you would expect from a combat ninja. "Please, I'm just the detention monitor!"
He forced himself to breathe, then slowly let her go and stepped back. "Explain how she earned them. Quickly."
The woman pressed herself even farther back into the wall, rubbing her neck unconsciously. "Sir, please, I didn't award any of the demerits. I'm not a teacher here, I'm a civilian auxiliary. I just monitor detention and verify the children's lines afterwards."
He had a feeling that he would feel guilty about this later, but right now the world was firing angles and threat assessments. "Explain."
"I would need to check the logs for details, sir. I only get the summary. I believe the first ten were for classroom behavior—usually that means being disruptive or disrespectful. And then the last five were for fighting."
"Honoka did not attack anyone."
"Sir, I'm sorry, please. I don't know anything about this. I'm a civilian, just a detention monitor. Please don't kill me, sir."
He forced himself to breathe and the world slowly became more than a combat problem. With it came the guilt; she was a civilian, he was a ninja, and he had nearly killed her. He was no better than Yoshirō or his friends, picking on someone weaker than himself.
"I'm sorry," he said, blushing and looking down. "For threatening you. I shouldn't have done that."
"It's all right, sir. No harm done. Totally fine. I deserved it for being so rude."
"It's not fine. I need to make it up to you—what can I do?"
The woman's expression was a complicated thing. Kagome had trouble reading it, but there was definitely some fear in there. The rest was...surprise? Maybe? Faces were hard!
"Uh...thank you, sir? It's not necessary, really. I shouldn't have been so difficult. Really, it's all my fault. I humbly apologize." She bowed, repeatedly and deeply.
This conversation was getting more surreal by the moment.
"When will she be done?" he asked, choosing to focus on a practical problem and leave the squishy people stuff for later.
The woman cringed. "It's supposed to be four hours, sir. If you would like to take her now...?"
He thought about that for a moment. "Would you get in trouble if I did?"
"Um...."
"Then I'll wait. And I really am sorry." He bowed deeply and held the door open for her. Once she had gone inside (looking as though her world had somehow turned itself upside down) he closed it quietly and shuffled down the hall a few steps, sitting down crosslegged and pulling some sealing supplies out of his pouch. He could wait to get his explanations.
"Bwurgh?!" her cousin shot up from his collapsed, drooling position on the ancient desk. "I swear, sir, it was only a tiny break! My work is still on schedule!"
Hanabi stood on tiptoe and put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. She smiled smugly on the inside. So far, all according to her expectations.
"I've told you before, Lady Hanabi, you mustn't come down here. The dust will be bad for your lungs."
"It's bad for yours too," Hanabi said.
"I can only obey Lord Hiashi's commands," Neji said sulkily.
"Don't worry," Hanabi said. "I can get you out of here, at least for a little while. I have a cunning plan."
"Oh?" Neji asked warily.
"You're going to help me throw a very special party."
"Lady Hanabi, I'm not allowed to stop working except to see to basic needs. You know that."
"That's fine." Hanabi drew herself up to her full impressive height. "With Father and Hinata both gone, I'm the highest-ranking Hyūga in Leaf. In a way, I'm the most important person in Leaf."
"Regent Kyōsuke might disagree," Neji said drily.
"I can overrule him, because I'm the highest-ranking. Anyway, by the authority vested in me, I hereby order you to help me run the party."
"Lord Hiashi would kill me when he came back."
"No, he won't. You can just tell him you did it out of overwhelming respect for any member of the main family line. If you phrase it right, he'll think you're just being loyal. Stupid, but loyal."
"It would be like a dream come true," Neji said. "In any case, doesn't Lord Hiashi have to approve your extracurricular socialisation?"
"He'll be fine if I say what Hinata told me. I'm honing my social skills in a varied and challenging environment in order to lay the foundations for my future career in politics. And if that's not good enough, I'll look up at him like this and tell him how much I love and respect him for looking out for me. Works every time."
Neji shuddered.
"Will all the other children be like you, Lady Hanabi?"
Hanabi had to stop herself from giggling at the question.
The purpose of the party was to help Minori. She'd been very quiet ever since she lost her sister three months ago, and sometimes Hanabi heard her crying when she thought she was alone. Hanabi would invite Tarō, because he was a friend of Minori's and would know how to cheer her up, and Miki because she had a talent for making people smile. She'd also invite Shiki, who was lazy but very clever, and his ideas would make the game much more interesting.
Yuriko would have been helpful too, but of course, she couldn't invite Shiki and Yuriko at the same time, because they were from rival clans and didn't like each other. Instead, afterwards Miki would be all happy and bubbly and tell everyone what a fun party it was, and then Hanabi would drop hints that she'd almost invited Yuriko instead of Shiki, and eventually Yuriko would break and finally give her that amazing dragon toy to get in her good books. Then Shiki would notice, and he'd realise that he had to outdo Yuriko if he wanted to get invited to the next party. Meanwhile, Yuriko would blame Shiki for costing her the dragon toy, and she'd go straight to Mion, because she always went to Mion when she was mad. Hanabi had plans for Mion.
"Don't worry," she said reassuringly. "I'm on your side."
-o-
"The once-mighty empire has fallen into an age of darkness," Neji read out in a dull monotone. "Brigands and outlaws roam the roads, preying on the vulnerable, while terrible monsters ever encroach on the fraying edges of civilisation. Law and order are but distant memories, and compassion is a luxury few can afford."
Lady Hanabi had written the scenario. Neji had edited it extensively, and applied his new record-managing expertise to memorising the rules. He still had no idea how he had been roped into this madness, save that when Lady Hanabi set her mind on something, neither storm nor blaze nor walls of stone would keep her from it. The only redeeming feature of the situation was that it would earn him more of her loyalty, bringing him one step closer to vengeance on his nemesis.
"But it is always in mankind's darkest hours that new champions arise. It is these men and women who stand tall and challenge impossible odds, relying on their strength, wits and courage to bring goodness back into the world, and smite the evil that threatens it."
The children gazed at him with rapt attention. They were mere Academy students and thus beneath his notice, but it was so rare for somebody to listen, to genuinely listen to him.
"The people name them heroes," he said gravely. "And it is your sacred duty to crush them all."
The children began to chatter excitedly. Lady Hanabi explained character classes.
Neji should probably consult Lord Hiashi about this before Lady Hanabi's unhealthy hobbies got out of hand. Then again, Lady Hanabi was the only person in the world not to treat him with contempt, apathy or homoerotic innuendo, and Lord Hiashi had made it clear that Neji was not to disturb him unless it was a matter of life and death, much less offer opinions on subjective matters. If anything, it was Neji's responsibility to make sure Lord Hiashi was not distracted with the petty concerns of children.
-o-
"'You have done well in capturing the living soul of a deva,' the Dark Lord proclaims from his throne. The scarlet flames behind the eye slits of his helm glow brighter until they are almost blinding, then fade to their usual colour. You feel your fatigue fade away, and your wounds sting as they close. 'But your quest is far from done. You must take the soul gem to the blacksmith of the Peaks of Sorrow, and forge of the deva's soul a single perfected weapon, a blade of black ice with which to slay Kirishima Kōtarō, Master of Geography.'"
At first, Neji had been bored out of his wits narrating the primitive story and playing parchment-thin personas like a one-man puppet show. He couldn't pinpoint the moment when he began to appreciate the children's engagement with his acting. The powerful, contemptuous voice of Dark Lord Gremulon had them shrinking back in awe. The crafty, subtle whispers of Skrissk the blatantly untrustworthy ratman merchant had them exchanging frowns as they tried to separate the truth from the lies. The self-righteous denunciations of Gondar the Paladin had them tighten their fists in anger. The characters may have been Lady Hanabi's, but it was Neji who made them real in his audience's minds.
It almost made up for having to keep track of three novices' character sheets (Lady Hanabi had entire hours' worth of experience, and the Nara was just about holding his own) while himself having only the shakiest grasp of the rules.
"I think we should hire mercenaries," the Nara boy said. "I'm not climbing those peaks without backup. I bet they have dragons up there."
"We can afford five?" one of the other children ventured. "They cost fifty gold each, and we have two hundred."
Next to her, Lady Hanabi shook her head. "We are not hiring mercenaries. We need the money for equipment."
"No, we don't. We're doing just fine. Who died and made you leader, anyway?"
Neji felt the room grow a little colder. He glanced to make sure the shutters were properly closed.
"I'm sorry, Hanabi," the girl said quickly. "That was rude."
Lady Hanabi gave a gracious nod. "I need a new inquisition set," she said, "and you used up the last of your oil burning down that orphanage."
The orphanage had been an inspired touch, Neji had to admit. Gondar the Paladin was an orphan himself, so he would not hesitate to run into a burning building to save the children, and they all agreed that burning buildings should be very easy to collapse if you had the right spells.
-o-
"Resume the hunt," Hanabi instructed. "There are still witnesses remaining."
"Not so fast, villains," Neji said after glancing outside. "It's already nearly dar—I mean light, and you must take shelter so that you are not caught."
There was a chorus of "aww…"
Hanabi took stock of the fruits of her labours as the other children gathered their belongings.
"That was fun," Tarō grinned. "But we have to play some more. We can't let those pilgrims live after what they did."
Hanabi gave a nod. "Never leave an enemy alive behind you. Or in front of you. Or to the sides. Actually, in any direction. I love being a Hyūga."
"Thankyouthankyouthankyou!" Miki was bouncing despite the late hour. "That was the best game ever! You too, sir, thank you so much! You must have worked really hard!"
Neji gave a rare smile. Hanabi felt a spark of jealousy. She was used to Neji only smiling for her. Still, she was very mature, so she didn't let it show.
"That wasn't bad," Shiki said grudgingly, "even if apparently I'm the only one who knows arithmetic. I wouldn't mind playing again."
"I'll bear it in mind," Hanabi said neutrally. "We'll see how it goes."
Finally, Minori didn't say anything as such, but she did hang back in the entrance corridor instead of leaving with the others.
"How did you find it?" Hanabi asked.
"It was nice," Minori said quietly. "Thank you for inviting me."
"That's good. Will you come play again next time?"
Minori nodded, and turned away to put on her sandals.
Hanabi couldn't wait to tell the Mistress how well she'd applied her teachings in practice. She'd kept order and shut down conflict before it could develop, all with the merest hint of icy intimidation (which, admittedly, was all she could manage for now).
In the meantime…
Tarō wasn't as helpful as she'd hoped, but Miki had successfully picked up the slack when it came to keeping Minori engaged with the game. Shiki was as level-headed as she'd expected, and any group with Miki in it needed someone to be the voice of reason without getting angry and starting arguments. It was a pity he wouldn't be able to make it next time, but Mion was important, and that meant tipping the scales. Long-term plans required short-term sacrifices—that was what Father taught her. Then again, if Hanabi could find a way to bypass Mion's clique that didn't rely on Yuriko…
"Did that meet your expectations, Lady Hanabi?"
"Thank you very much, Cousin Neji," Hanabi said cheerfully. "I love playing games with my friends."
"You don't have the authority to enforce Mist law," Captain Zabuza sneered. "If you so much as lay a finger on me, that's your diplomatic incident right there. In a room full of people."
A none-too-polite reminder that if Jiraiya used violence, the friendly fire could be catastrophic. It was true that Jiraiya was the only Kage with an invitation to the Gōketsu games night, but the room was packed to the rafters with elite jōnin, senior chūnin, and the crème de la crème of the genin from across the Elemental Nations. The military power gathered in this room was enough to raze a medium-sized civilian town, and it was dwarfed in importance by the military and economic secrets stored in so many of those brains. If Captain Zabuza and Jiraiya came to blows, everyone else in the room would be dead in seconds and the effects would reverberate across the Elemental Nations for years.
"Here are the facts," the ultimate hunter-nin raised his voice.
"It was a trap. And the ones who set us up, the ones responsible for all this—"
The door slammed open. Captain Zabuza whipped round instantly, sword in hand.
An apparently unarmed man stumbled in, looking like he could fall over any second.
Thank the Sage and all his many brothers.
Jiraiya flicked his eyes to one of the ANBU, and the woman took off at a dead run. Aunt Ren would be here in minutes. Hazō almost regretted not inviting her.
Until then, all Jiraiya had to do was take whatever the man was about to tell him and use it to stall for time. Child's play for the master diplomat.
"Sunohara?" Jiraiya asked with a confused frown that probably masked massive relief. "What could be important enough to make you come all the way here in person?"
"They've taken Gaara," Sunohara said heavily. "We are out of time."
The world seemed to slow around Hazō. A tiny part of him wondered if this was what it was like to be Keiko, to bury oneself in the Ice and see the world as fracture planes of possibility and razor-sharp angles of probability. The thoughts flashed through his mind—mere images and intuitions encoding what would have taken hundreds of words to explain using words and logic.
Item one: Captain Zabuza + invitation-only event. Timing due to intention + choice, not accident. Disclosure of secrets = seeds of chaos, political upheaval. War. Cities burned, crops devastated. ("Although it may be possible to crush your opponent's stronghold, a wise ninja will instead burn the fields.") The Battle of the Gods on every tongue, fury in every eye.
Why? Triune possibilities: Aunt Ren's command. His own will. A figure in the shadows.
Aunt Ren's command?
A future: Aunt Ren, Leaf treaty in hand, crowds cheering. Alternative: Fragments of paper on the floor, Aunt Ren in chains, gloating of the warsharks and disgust of the moderates.
The past and the future: Weeks spent horse-trading with Jiraiya to create alliance. (Without actually using the word 'alliance', but the rose still blushed.) Aunt Ren negotiating as sharp as a fishwife in the marketplace, but in good faith. Agreements reached. A grudgingly-smiling Jiraiya shaking her hand with his right, holding the treaty in his left. Hyūga Hiashi, the Clan Council and the Merchant Council at his back, face sour at the need to offer approval. Mist moderates doing the same for Aunt Ren while the warshark party howled in impotent fury.
Subconclusion: Not Aunt Ren's command.
His own will?
Lessons at the Academy, shining example held up for every student: Captain Zabuza, the distilled essence of a Mist ninja. Loyal beyond death to Mist. Deliberately cause it harm for no reason? Inconceivable.
Possibility: Captain Zabuza. Fury / grief / unbalance / disharmony. Rage at the idea of Aunt Ren shaking hands with the people—with the man—who had killed so many of his friends. The Captain: ice and calculation like unto the Mori but proactive and determined. Everyone had a limit, and the quiet ones snapped hardest. Witness Keiko.
Subconclusion: Captain Zabuza here purely of his own accord? Laughable but possible.
The figure in the shadows?
Possibility: Words from the dark, "Ren is selling us out to those Leaf monsters in order to secure her position and we must save Mist from her machinations." Highly feasible.
Conclusion: Captain Zabuza was here to destroy the alliance, probably at the behest of one or more senior Mist politicians, against the clear wishes of his Kage, and he was being partly driven by his grief and anger.
Item two: How could he be prevented from doing so?
Actually, first things first.
"Dispel," Hazō mumbled, making the single handseal to activate the technique that would break any genjutsu. He sent a momentary silent prayer to his ancestors that he would please find himself standing over a gaming table while another genin cheated wildly.
Nope.
He glanced at Jiraiya, hoping against hope that the Sannin had an answer.
Jiraiya met his gaze and gave a millimetric shake of the head and the tiniest possible 'wait' gesture with one hand. Hazō nodded slightly and turned back to the unfolding drama. Despite that, his brain continued turning over possibilities for action, desperately searching for an answer other than the first one that had leaped to mind.
"They wore black and red cloaks and they came out of the sun on...dragonback."
"Oh, come on!" growled a Sand jōnin. "Sunohara, this is no time for one of your jokes."
"It's not a joke, Captain! I swear it!"
The jōnin sighed. "He's a prankster, but he's usually honest," he said to Jiraiya and the room in general. "And he has to know this is not the time or place." He turned back to the messenger. "Look, what do you mean about 'dra—'"
"Enough!" shouted Captain Zabuza. "More Leaf treachery! It was—"
For a split second, the mental image of a groan flickered through Hazō's mind. This was going to haunt him, he just knew it. Still, you had to dance when Fiddler Night played the tune.
"You traitor!"
Utter shock stopped Captain Zabuza in midword. There was a moment of appalled and astonished silence throughout the room. Dozens of eyes, including the very angry ones belonging to the world's greatest hunter-nin, were suddenly riveted on Hazō as he stepped forward, fists clenched and face twisted in the Iron Nerve's perfect rendition of the most furious expression he had ever worn.
"What is wrong with you, Captain Zabuza?! Do you know what's going on here?! Peace! People from across the Elemental Nations, coming together to have fun. Tonight is a tiny little baby step towards peace throughout the Elemental Nations, towards uplifting civilization, and it's thanks to me. You can't stand the idea of me succeeding, can you? The idea that me and my team got away, that you hunted us for a year and a half and never even got close. That we made you look like a fool, time and time again. That's enough to make you betray your Kage?" He turned to the room at large. "Fine, I'll tell you before he can, and I won't twist it like he was going to. Yes, it was a trap! Mist sent us on a suicide mission, but it was really a trick by Shikigami, a jōnin who wanted to build a new village with himself at its head. My team and about thirty others went missing. Captain Zabuza and others came to the swamp in Fire where we had taken refuge and they killed everyone...except me and my team. We escaped and we survived, in the wilderness, for a year and a half while Captain Zabuza hunted us. We found the Pangolin Summoning Contract and bargained for Leaf citizenship. And yes, Leaf broke every norm of ninja law. They accepted missing-nin. They created a new clan from criminals and traitors. They stole bloodlines. And now Aunt Ren is negotiating with them and it made Captain Za—"
Captain's Zabuza's fury crashed down upon him like a tsunami. Everything became howling blades and blood-drenched storms. A wave of demons tore at Hazō's flesh and buried him beneath their weight, crushing him flat so he could not breathe or struggle or even think.
Far off in another world, a world in which he had a body, he felt that body collapse to its knees, then fall forward. He was blind and deaf, but he felt sure that he was screaming. Or perhaps gasping for breath. There was no way to know.
Still. Gasping or screaming, drowning in pain and terror, buried in darkness or not, Hazō had braced himself for exactly this. From the first word of his 'impassioned speech', he had known he would find himself in the hell of Zabuza's will. That had been the point: to grant Jiraiya a legal justification to act.
Momma's words echoed in the howling darkness: "It's focus. If you can't beat somebody's diffused will with your own, then you have to go the other way and focus on a single thing as hard as possible."
Even as he had played at rage and arrogance and naïve idealism, Hazō had been holding tight to his single thought: He had to save Gōketsu. Captain Zabuza's information would bring the death of everyone he loved, and that could not happen. He didn't need to win, he just needed to give Jiraiya a justification to act and a vaguely plausible story to explain why he had needed to. And that meant finishing his speech.
Hazō, Resolve (20). Tag: "Ready for You" (+3). Invoke: "Creative Idealist" (+3). Invoke: "Lists and Plans" (+3). Invoke: "(Formerly) Marked for Death" (+3). Invoke: "The Hokage is My New Dad" (+3). Invoke: "Team Uplift" (+3). Stunt: "Forged in Fire" (+4 due to Thousand Yard Stare points). Dice: +6. Total: 48
Zabuza, Intimidation (A lot): Thousand Yard Stare points (+?). Dice: ?: Total: ?
Hazō's mental stress track is full. He takes Mental/Social Consequences: Mild ("Wet Myself") and Moderate ("Nightmares by Night and by Day"). He also has a Mild Physical Consequence ("Lightly Concussed") from smacking his head on the floor.
NB: 'Forged in Fire' usually does not apply to Resolve checks, but it seems appropriate in this situation. Also, Zabuza did not burn Fate Points or use Aspects because this is a fight against a genin and he could not possibly have thought it would be necessary to make that kind of effort.
Somehow, far off, his body carried out the plan he had made before he began speaking, back in the Before Times when the world made sense and reality was something other than pain and fear.
"How much...did they...pay you?" he gasped.
There was a thundercrack and the darkness disappeared, leaving Hazō shuddering on the floor in a puddle of his own urine.
o-o-o-o
"Hazō? C'mon, bro, wakey wakey. Eggs and bakey, time to wake up."
Hazō groaned and pried his eyes open to find Noburi crouched over him, the glow of medical chakra around his hands and a worried expression on his face.
"It wasn't just me," Hazō mumbled, squinting his eyes closed as the light of the chakra scorched them.
"Uh-huh. Whatever you say, man. Can you open your eyes for me?"
"I needed to sound arrogant," Hazō whispered. "Angry, stupid kid acting out. But it wasn't just me. It was the whole team. It was all of us that made tonight happen."
Noburi snorted. "Seriously? That's what you're worried about right now? Now open your eyes and let me check your pupils or I'll bring out my acupuncture needles."
Hazō forced his eyes open with the same effort required to push a cart of bricks uphill. He couldn't help but squint as Noburi brought the light closer, but he managed not to close them completely.
"Left pupil is dilated," Noburi said. He glanced over his shoulder. "He's probably concussed. He's got some bruises from when he fell, but otherwise he seems fine."
Keiko stepped forward into Hazō's field of view. "That was extremely foolish, Hazō." She paused, then smiled very slightly. "The next time you deliberately attract the killing intent of an elite jōnin, please ensure that you sit down first. Your plans are dangerous enough without damage to your brain."
"No you aren't!" Noburi said, pulling him upright. "C'mon, you have to stay awake. You can't sleep with a concussion. You need to stay upright so your brain can settle back into place, and I need to soak your head in mud in order to ground the harmful spirits into the earth. If not, they'll settle in your brain and damage it."
"Ungh." Hazō managed to sit upright...and then promptly bent forward and puked everything he'd ever eaten into the bowl that Noburi had wisely pre-positioned.
"That's good," the apprentice medic said, nodding. "You're getting the bile out. Now come with me. We need to get you outside into the fresh air and get your head in some mud before the spirits do too much damage."
"Thought you could...ugh...sterilize wounds?" Hazō lumbered to his feet, wiping the vomit from his mouth with his sleeve.
"Sure," Noburi said, slipping under his brother's other arm and supporting him towards the door. "Physical wounds. Medical chakra is a balance of thought and spirit, so it opposes spirits of the flesh and drives them out. It can't touch spirits of the mind. Those need to be sucked away through a connection to the earth." He pushed the door open with one hand; both he and Hazō flinched at the freezing air. "If this were decent weather I would say you should strip down and soak your entire body, but when it's this cold we'll have to settle for just your head."
He helped Hazō to a small leanto that Cat, one of the ANBU, had set up on the lawn. The woman had laid out a bedroll and was now pouring boiling hot water on the frozen grass at one end of it. She stabbed and stirred the ground vigorously with a kunai in order to turn it into mud.
Hazō whimpered. "Can't it just be my feet?"
"Sorry, bro. The spirits will be concentrated around the injury and we don't want to pull them all the way down through your body. Lie back."
Hazō half-sat and half-collapsed onto the bedroll, too dizzy and nauseous to help much as Noburi and Cat helped him lie flat and lay his head back into the cleansing mud. Keiko stood by, watching and clenching her fists at her lack of ability to help as Noburi gently scooped mud up and spread it across Hazō's face and hair, taking care to get plenty of it in his ears.
Hazō winced at the cold. A spike of blindingly white agony blotted out the world for an instant and then he came back to find himself gasping.
"I know it sucks, bro," Noburi said, keeping one hand on Hazō's shoulder and one on his forehead. "It shouldn't take long. Mind spirits are fragile; they can't stand the touch of earth. I'm scanning you now and I don't feel much in the way of flesh spirits...they caused some minor swelling, but I've driven them out and it's starting to go down."
Cat spread a massive pile of blankets over Hazō and tucked several hot water bottles under them. Hazō cried out at the contact; the bottles felt scorchingly hot on his skin and the mud was so cold he worried his skull would crack.
"Will he be all right?" Keiko asked after a few eternities.
Noburi hesitated a moment, eyes closed as he concentrated on what his chakra was telling him. "I think so," he said at last. "Okay, that's probably enough. Let's get him back inside and cleaned up."
o-o-o-o
"What happened, anyway?" Hazō asked, shivering despite the hot bath he was soaking in. It had taken ten minutes of careful washing to get all the mud, vomit, and urine off of himself, and now he was soaking in a hot tub. Cat was sitting in the corner, silent as a stone, with a naked sword across her lap. Noburi and Keiko were sitting on the edge of the tub around Hazō.
Noburi snorted. "You mouthed off until Captain Zabuza got pissed and crushed you like a bug. Somehow, you still managed to speak a few more words. He snarled and took a step towards you. Then Jiraiya just...moved, and suddenly there was a hole in the wall and he and Captain Zabuza were gone."
"Sure wish he'd done that a few seconds earlier," Hazō griped.
"He could not have. You enraged Captain Zabuza to the point where he focused completely on you for one moment. With the pretext of protecting his son against someone who had broken Exam Truce, Jiraiya was able to attack without fear of diplomatic consequences. And, with the Captain's attention diverted, Jiraiya was able to land his first attack without being dodged or giving opportunity to have the relevant intel shouted out. Had you not done what you did, Captain Zabuza would most likely have disclosed his information." She paused, eyes flicking to Cat for a moment before visibly deciding to continue. "Had he done so, I estimate that World War Four would have begun before morning. If not, within at most three days."
"Yay. Go, me." Hazō shivered, the heat of the tub not yet overcoming the cold in his bones.
The door of the bathing chamber swung open and Cat was on her feet, standing between the tub and the door with her sword extended. She lowered it a moment later and bowed.
"Thanks for watching over them, Cat," Jiraiya said, nodding back. "Give us the room, okay?"
The woman bowed again, sheathed her blade, and stepped outside. The door closed softly behind her.
"Kid, that was the bravest, stupidest, most brilliant thing I've seen in a good long time." Jiraiya grinned, crouching down so he could be at eye level with Hazō. He put his elbows on the rim of the tub and rested his chin on his folded hands. "Seriously, that took balls of steel. Well done."
"Thank you, sir," Hazō said to the slightly blurry form of his Clan Head. He blinked several times, forcing himself to focus. Jiraiya was wearing a fresh robe, part of his hair was gone, his knuckles were bleeding, and he sported a massive shiner on the left as well as a bandage that stretched at a rakish angle across part of his forehead and down to his right cheek. "What happened?"
"Stabby Zabby and I danced a bit, then Ren and the other Kage showed up. We debriefed Sunohara and now everything's in a tizzy. Akatsuki kidnapped Gaara, and it looks like they now have a complete set. Once we heard about Gaara, I ponied up the fact that Naruto had been kidnapped by the same people. That got the other Kage to admit that their jinchūriki have all been taken over the last few months.
"Once that was out in the open, we all started pooling our information. Remember when I came home so whacked out on Akimichi stimulants? That was when me and a couple others captured 'Team Bloodrage', which is one of the stupidest and most emo names I've ever heard, and brought them back to Leaf. The Yamanaka peeled those kids like a bag of potatoes, and that gave us their handler. Capturing that guy was the mission that I sent Noburi and Kakashi on."
"Aw, man. You had to tell him," Noburi griped. "I was having so much fun lording it over him."
Jiraiya snorted. "Yeah, well, suck it up. Anyway, Bloodrage's handler wasn't that highly placed, but he knew enough. Combine that with the intel that Orochimaru sent me in the board game and what the other Kage knew and we have a location: Nagi Island. We're confident that that's where Gaara was being taken, which means that the other jinchūriki are probably there as well. Mist sent Sunohara on ahead with the message so that we could start getting organized, but there's a strike group a few hours behind him. They also sent a messenger to Leaf, and I expect that there's another strike group coming from there. They should all be here in a few hours. They'll need to sleep for a bit, but as soon as they're ready, me, A, Ōnoki, Rasa, Hyūga, and basically every elite jōnin in the world are going to come down on Nagi Island like a ton of bricks. We'll get Naruto and the others back and kill the sons of bitches who took them." His eyes got hard for a moment. "Especially Itachi. After what he did to Naruto, I'm going to burn him to ash."
Hazō shuddered and even Keiko looked nervous.
"I am glad that there is progress," she said after a moment. "What would you like the three of us to do?"
"We had thought about bringing you along, actually. Not to fight—the idea was that you would stand well back and send in the pangolins. We decided against it; you would be a priority target and your tessera are good, but they're not S-rank. They wouldn't add enough combat power to justify the risk to you." He flashed her a smile. "Ain't lettin' nobody hurt my shy little girl.
"No, the three of you are going to go back to Leaf. The other genin will go with you, with the chūnin as bodyguards. Once there, Hazō will take up the position of Acting Clan Head until I return. I'll be sending my will along with you just in case I don't. It basically leaves everything to the clan, minus a few bequests."
The smile that he'd been wearing faded away. "I'm not sure who is coming with the strike force, but it's pretty likely that you won't be the only genin serving as Acting Clan Head. Try not to get into too much trouble. Don't make any long-term contracts, alliances, or marriage arrangements. Listen to Mari if she is stable and ignore her if she's still compromised. Keep Kagome on a leash and don't let Fifi off the property."
"Yes sir," Hazō said, nodding wide-eyed. He paused, licking his lip in thought. He glanced over at his sister. "Keiko, I'm sorry for bringing this up now before talking to you about it. I had planned to get your evaluation once we were back home in a lower-pressure environment, but I need to do it now." He turned back to Jiraiya. "Sir...before today, I had been thinking about going to Isan after we got back. There's something like five hundred ninja there with completely unique sealing and ninjutsu traditions, and they spent centuries guarding and venerating the Pangolin Summoning Scroll. I'm guessing that Keiko is something like their messiah, and she'll have a lot of political weight. Isan will probably be opening up to the world soon, and if we were able to manage that process we could gain a lot."
Jiraiya blew out his cheeks in thought. "That's a good idea," he said at last. "Ballsy, proactive, with high potential reward. You're off to a good start as Acting Clan Head. On the other hand, it also carries some serious risks. Like, potentially clan-ending risks.
"A lot depends on what happens on this mission. The people going with me are heavy hitters, but the known members of Akatsuki are in our weight class and I don't even want to guess what their other members are capable of. It's absolutely certain that not all of us are coming back, and no matter what happens it's going to destabilize the Elemental Nations for a few years."
The Sannin paused, thinking, then made eye contact with all three of his children in turn. "You three are everything I could have hoped for as family. You are smart, brave, and phenomenally skilled for your age. I couldn't be prouder if you were my own flesh and blood."
He pushed himself to his feet, his face ceasing to be the vulnerable parent and becoming once again that of the Clan Head and Hokage. "My best advice is this: Don't go to Isan for at least a week. If things turn out well, I'll be back by then and we can gather intel and make a plan. If I'm not...Hazō, you're in charge and you'll have to use your best judgement based on the situation you find yourself in. Listen to Keiko and Noburi. Listen to Mari if she's stable again. Ino-Shika-Chō are allies; treat them as such, but remember the difference between 'ally' and 'friend'. If Shikaku doesn't come with the strike force, or if he does and then survives the mission, be careful. He's smarter than all of us put together, so try not to let him get too many hooks into you. If Naruto makes it back, adopt him into the clan. The two of you can sort out who is going to be Clan Head, but he's the one you should put forward for Hokage when the time comes. He's got the popularity and the power, and he'll listen to you."
He smiled and clapped Noburi on the shoulder. "Keep working on the Mega Water Dragon Bullet Spike of Doom, kid. It's a good move for you, even if you needed a little more practice with it before the tournament."
Noburi laughed. "Rub it in, why don't you?"
Jiraiya chuckled and squeezed his son's shoulder, then turned to Keiko.
"Keiko, you're the only one in the family with any logistics or economics skill, so I'm counting on you to keep the clan solvent. And try to keep Hazō out of trouble, would you?"
"Yes sir," she said, nodding firmly. "I will not let you down."
"Never crossed my mind that you might. Hazō...take it slow for a few years until you settle in, but you're going to be amazing."
He surveyed them all one last time, then gave them a smile and a nod. Seconds later, he was gone.
XP AWARD: 10
Author's Notes: The update only covered a couple of hours, but I loved writing it. The plan was fun, exciting, and not overspecified. At least as importantly, I got to exposit things that the QMs have been working on literally since before the quest began, all the way back in the initial worldbuilding.
The plan called for talking to Jiraiya about Operation Murder, an idea that centered on taking a bunch of Summoners to the Seventh Path and then having the Crow Clan reverse-summon Itachi into an ambush. The plan (very wisely) specified that this should happen under high OPSEC, which wasn't an option given what was happening. I considered having Hazō disclose it anyway but decided against it. Operation Murder requires several days of setup time, as the various Summoners need to travel from their summoning point to the mountains where the Crows live. It makes perfect sense before the information on Nagi Island turned up, but at this point Jiraiya knew where to go and he had all the backup you could ask for, so it was smarter to go directly.
Vote time! What to do now? Options include:
Decide to simply go with the flow, in which case (unless @Velorien wants to do something different) we could just time-skip back to you being in Leaf.
Seek out Ikeda or other foreign ninja. (It was part of this plan but there wasn't time for it.)
Get with ISC and the rest of the Leaf contingent to plan your trip home. Will you go direct, or do you want to try to talk people into a sidetrip of some sort?
Seek out Jiraiya. It's clear that he's not leaving for hours, possibly even a day. (The strike forces have to arrive and then rest.)
Seek out Aunt Ren.
Take care of any business you have remaining in Mist.
Write in.
Voting ends on Wednesday, April 18, 2019, at 12pm London time.
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Interlude: Honoka's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day -- Part 2
Interlude: Honoka's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day, Part 2
Honoka waited, foot tapping furiously and unconsciously as the monitor went through the lines that the students had turned in five minutes earlier.
Finally, finally, finally (!) the last page was confirmed to be filled with actual copies of 'I will not [do the thing that got me in detention] again' instead of random squiggles or anything else, such as 'The monitor has poo in her head.' The woman set the page down and looked up.
"All right, everyone, you— Sit down!"
Six students reluctantly sank back into their chairs, eyeing the monitor the way a hungry wolf pack eyes a deer.
"In a moment, you may say a polite goodbye, then stand up and walk out the door quietly. No running in the halls or you'll be back here tomorrow." She stared them down for a moment, then nodded. "All right. Goodbye, students."
"Goodbye, Ms. Sukigawa," the students chorused. They stood up, shouldered their bags, and walked quietly to the door. Honoka forced herself not to crowd to the front despite the impatience that burned in her veins.
Surprise momentarily overcame the impatience as she stepped into the hall to find Kagome-sensei waiting for her and scowling at the other children. She paused for a fraction of a second, then threw herself at him and hugged him tight. He squatted down just as she started moving, so he was able to catch her in his arms and hug her back.
"Hey squirt," he said, rubbing her back hesitantly when she sniffled a little. "Bad day?"
She nodded into his shoulder, not trusting herself to speak. Behind her, someone sniggered.
Suddenly her feet were off the ground as Kagome-sensei stood up and stepped forward, one arm absently swinging her around into piggy-back position. He bent over so his angry-hawk eyes were level with those of the third-year boy who had sniggered.
"Something funny, kid?" Kagome-sensei growled. "Maybe you'd like to share?"
The boy shook his head furiously, pressing himself into the wall.
"This is Yamamoto Honoka," Kagome-sensei said, hooking one thumb towards the girl on his back. "She's my friend. I don't like it when people laugh at my friends."
"No sir! Sorry, sir."
Kagome-sensei eyed the boy for another moment, then nodded and straightened up. "Pass the word, yes?" he said-not-asked. His voice was, however, milder than it had been.
"Yes sir!"
Kagome-sensei nodded again, then turned and jogged towards the exit, deliberately high-stepping so that Honoka got bounced up and down until she giggled.
Once they were outside, Kagome-sensei put on speed, leaving the Academy grounds in seconds and immediately leaping up the nearest building. He Substituted with one of the barrels that were mounted on rooftop platforms all around the city, provided exactly to make life easier for ninja in a hurry. Honoka shrieked in delight as the world went spinny and glittery for the nigh-instantaeous duration of the jutsu. She couldn't wait until she learned to Substitute!
Kagome-sensei Substituted a few more times, then traveled a short distance the regular way before stopping atop a slanted roof covered in slates of various colors. He brushed the snow off an area near the peak, lay down a blanket, and sat down. He made sure that Honoka was balanced and not about to lose her grip and slide off the roof, then patted the blanket beside himself in invitation. Reluctantly, she climbed off his back and sat down.
"Bad day, huh?" he asked again.
Honoka nodded. She swallowed a lump in her throat and silently extended her hands to show the massive welt across both palms.
Kagome-sensei's eyes glittered dangerously as he studied the mark. "What was that for?" he asked mildly.
"In history today, Stinker-sensei came in in a bad mood," she said. "He started quizzing everyone, and he asked me when the Motoyoshi Feud started and why. I told him what you told me—that it started in 810 when the Motoyoshi tricked the Renbetsu and the Shirata into fighting each other. He said that no, it started in 812 between the Renbetsu and the Shirata and the two clans eventually made peace and merged to become the Motoyoshi. I...kinda argued with him." She hung her head in embarrassment. "He got mad and gave me six demerits and a whack. Then at lunch Hyūga-stinker and her friends were making fun of me. I pushed through them and Nakamura went to the teacher and said that I'd punched her on my way by, so I got five more demerits and detention."
Kagome-sensei digested that for a moment. "Did you punch her?"
"No! She was lying! I didn't do anything, promise! They were making fun of me and they called me a mudfoot and everything but I didn't say anything or do anything, I just pushed by her and she lied and the teacher got mad and told me that a ninja must have self-discipline and I was acting no better than a civilian and I didn't do it!" Her voice was wobbling and her eyes were streaming, but she managed not to actually sob as she met his gaze with desperate hope that she would be believed.
Her teacher nodded decisively. "Okay."
"You believe me?"
He eyed her as though she'd grown a second head. "Of course I believe you. Why wouldn't I?"
She sniffled. "No one else did. The teacher didn't, the other kids didn't, the detention monitor didn't...."
Kagome-sensei gave a magnificent snort. "Stupid. All of them. You don't lie."
A worm of nervousness crawled through her stomach. She lied sometimes. Just little lies, though. Not about this. She had been truthful about everything on this.
"What was the teacher's name?"
One thing Kagome-sensei was not, was good at acting casual. There was an edge under his words that made Honoka think made she should be careful how she answered. "Which one, sensei?"
"The one who gave you the whack."
She gulped. He was looking off into the distance and she didn't like the way he was fondling the wooden boxes he wore on his rings. "Shishido-sensei."
Kagome-sensei nodded absently, still not looking at her. "Shishido-sensei. I'll remember that."
Honoka wondered what she had set in motion. "Um...sensei?"
It took a moment for him to break out of his thoughts and turn back to her, one eyebrow raised. "Hm?"
"You're not going to hurt him, are you?"
Kagome-sensei glanced to the side in a look that Dad always called 'shifty' when Honoka did it. She only did it when she was going to lie. "No?"
"You can't, sensei!"
One eyebrow went up. He glanced at his rings and then back at her. "Pretty sure I can."
"Sensei."
He looked sour. "Why not?"
She thought about that. "We aren't supposed to fight with other Leaf ninja. That's not the Will of Fire."
He snorted. "Like I care about the stinking Will of stinking Fire."
What?! "You have to care about the Will of Fire!"
"Why?"
"Because!"
"Because why?"
"Because...because the Will of Fire is what's right! It's why Leaf is so powerful, because we follow the Will of Fire."
"No it's not. You're powerful because Senju Hashirama was born here. He consolidated several of the most powerful clans in the area under his rule, which let him expand the borders of Fire to their modern limits. The modern Fire is in the center of this half of the Elemental Nations, so it controls most of the international trade. On top of that it has most of the arable land on the continent, so everyone is dependent on you for food. The wealth and the food supply means you can support a large civilian population, so you have lots of civilian-born ninja on top of the original large population of powerful clan ninja." He paused, then added, "Oh, and because you guys took less of a beating in the last World War than most of the other nations. Still bad, but less bad." Another moment's thought and he added, "Oh, and because the lupchanzen are scared of the Nine-Tails, so they mostly stay away from Leaf. Mostly."
But...but.... "You can't!"
"Why not?"
"Because you can't!"
"We did this part. I can."
"You shouldn't!"
"Why not?"
Argh!
She harumphed and sat down to think. That was the nice thing about Kagome-sensei: He would wait. When he asked a question he sincerely wanted to know the answer and he would give her time to think it through.
"Please don't?"
His face soured. She applied her very best puppy-dog eyes and eventually he broke. "Fine."
"Really?"
"Fine. I won't hurt him." His lips pursed in thought and then slowly stretched into a smile. "I'll just have to get...creative."
Hazō watched the door close behind his Clan Head and Hokage, and then groaned and started laboriously pulling himself out of the tub, moving an inch at a time so as not to jostle his pounding head.
"Whoa there, Hazō, where do you think you're going? You're supposed to be soaking in the heat."
"We have to go after him, and I need to run some things by you guys first, and they're sensitive so we need to be under Air and Earth Domes."
"Excuse me? Bro, what we need to do is get packed."
"No, Hazō is correct. There are too many issues unresolved. We will need further details regarding, among other things, interclan politics."
Noburi hesitated, looking from his sister to the door and back. "Do we have to go after him now? I got the sense that he's going to be incredibly busy for the next few hours, and I don't want to be the bratty little kid tugging at the grownups' pantlegs. Do we need to know this stuff in the next ten minutes?"
"...Maybe not," Hazō admitted. "Still, it's important. And he's not stuck in yet, but he will be in a couple minutes. There's no way of knowing how long it will be before he can break loose, if he even can before leaving."
"If he's stuck in that long it's because he needs to be. How will you feel if we pull him aside for thirty minutes of political stuff and then he dies because he didn't do some necessary piece of prep in those thirty minutes?"
"Damnit, Nobby, that's not—"
"Send him a note," Cat said.
The team looked over at the bodyguard whose silence and motionless had made all three of them forget her presence.
"Yes," Keiko said, nodding. "Write down our questions, deliver them to him. He can mentally prepare his answers and find a time that is convenient for him to pass us the answers."
Hazō lowered himself back into the tub with a relieved groan. "Yes. That is a thing we should do. We still need the Domes though. Noburi, do you mind putting them up?"
"I am not confident that the floor of this room will sustain the weight of an Earth Dome without damage. If we wish to do this, we will need to go outside."
"Allow me," Cat said, standing up. She made three rapid handseals and beckoned towards the water of the tub. "Water and Lightning Element Technique: Secure Shroud! Step up onto the fog, please."
Half the water in the tub leapt up towards the ceiling, then spread out to form an egg-shaped bubble of light fog around the four ninja. The fog was confined to an area perhaps a foot thick with the interior space completely clear; it crept along the ground slowly, moving steadily inwards. Cat, Noburi, and Keiko were all quick to step up onto the surface, the younger two clearly surprised to find that mere mist provided a firm and springy surface capable of supporting their weight.
"No offense," Hazō said from inside the tub. "But that fog isn't particularly opaque."
"Wait for it," Cat said. Her cat-faced ANBU mask hid her face, but the smile was clearly audible in her voice.
Over the course of several seconds, sparks began to form in the mist. They grew larger and more numerous, floating through the cloud like tiny fireflies. Each one would wink out after a few seconds, but more were created just as quickly.
"Okay, still not—"
"Wait for it."
Ten or fifteen seconds later, two of the sparks happened to pass within a few inches of one another. Purple lightning zzted between them and each spark broke in two, moving away more rapidly than they had come together. More sparks were still forming, more interactions were taking place, and soon there were so many sparks that the inner volume of the fog was a constant field of lightning that completely obscured vision and gave off a popping susurration like a waterfall. The lightning did not enter the outer inch or so of the fog, instead giving it an iridescent sheen and casting a faint purple glow over the interior space.
"Completely blocks sight and most sensory jutsu, plus scrambles sound. If you shout you could probably make yourself heard, but normal voices won't be distinguishable."
"That," Hazō said, staring in fascination, "is cool. Two elements, huh?"
"Indeed. Also takes a good chunk of chakra. Still, it provides excellent privacy and a moderate amount of protection from attack. The water tends to disperse the energy of a blow and the lightning provides good defense against armor-piercing lightning techniques. It won't even slow down high-level jutsu or punch gods like Gai and Lady Tsunade, but against most things it's hard to pierce it in one shot, so at least we would have some warning. You should be safe to talk."
All three Gōketsu stared transfixed at the shimmering fog for several seconds before Keiko finally shook herself out of it.
"I believe we were making a list."
"Yesssss," Hazō said, sitting up in the tub with a disturbing fire in his eyes. And then immediately clutching his head as a spike of pain shot through it. "Yes, we were! What did we have so far?"
"Politics," Noburi said.
"Economics," Keiko said.
"Combat capacity," Hazō said.
"Resources," Keiko added, digging through her storage seals as she spoke. "Jiraiya is a repository of jutsu and seals that may be unavailable elsewhere. Does he have notebooks we could study? If so, where?" She pulled out writing supplies and sat down to record the conversation.
"The Toad Scroll," Hazō contributed. "His spy network. Lady Tsunade. Is she part of the strike force? If she isn't, or if she comes back and Jiraiya doesn't, how far can we trust her and in what scenarios? What is her stance likely to be towards us? Are there things we should or should not try to engage with her on? And, more immediately, what seals can I make for Jiraiya before he leaves?"
"Do...do you think I should go?" Noburi asked. "I've got medic training. I can't help in the fight, but I could go along and hang back so that I can medic the wounded afterwards. And I could provide chakra. Jiraiya could summon all his Toads, fill up from my barrel, and still be at full strength for the fight itself."
"Every Kage is combining their resources for this fight," Keiko pointed out, her tone gentle. "Every medic-nin in Mist is available, as is the entire Wakahisa clan. Your presence would add value, but only a marginal amount. And it could distract Jiraiya during the battle. Overall, I think it would be better for you to stay here."
"Yeah, I guess you're right," Noburi said, doing his best to hide relief.
Keiko didn't look up from her notes, but her lip twitched in something that was almost a smile. "Back on topic. Politics. We need advice on the other clans, specifically with whom we should ally and with whom we should take care. Economics. We need to know what income sources we currently have aside from the pangolins, what threats exist to those sources, and what new potentials he currently has underway and how we can further them. Combat capacity, which we have not yet discussed."
"That's the immediate concern," Hazō said decisively. "We're tiny, financially precarious, and our only member with experience at anything like politics is currently nonfunctional. We need to have enough combat capacity that we become desirable allies. And that no one can afford to ignore us when we talk."
"I do recall that being a relevant factor for our clan in the past," Keiko said drily.
"He's not going to have time to teach us any jutsu," Noburi said. "If he's got any seals on him that he doesn't need, he could give us samples so that Hazō and Kagome can learn them later. And if he can spare a few minutes he could draw examples of any really good ones that he doesn't have on him."
"The Toad Summoning Scroll. Noburi, we need to get that for you."
Noburi looked surprised. "Me? I figured you'd want it."
Hazō shrugged. "Sure, I'd love to have it. There would be a lot of egoboo in being the successor to the Toad Sage. On the other hand, my chakra reserves are small and yours are crazy huge. You'll be able to summon more and more powerful Toads than I could. We need to play to our strengths while shoring up our weaknesses."
"That is an excellent point," Keiko said thoughtfully. "Noburi, I should transfer the Pangolin Scroll to you. It would—"
"Seals will go a long way," Noburi said, raising his voice slightly and not even looking at his sister. "Hazō, you've got an insane backlog of things you wanted to research. We need to get you and Kagome the time to rip through them. Also, what would you think about bringing some more people into the clan, ones who could learn the basics of sealing? Explosives were the first thing you ever learned, so they're clearly relatively safe for junior sealsmiths. If you and Kagome weren't spending hours each day keeping us all stocked, you'd have a lot more time for research."
"Noburi, I would appreciate it if you would not ignore me. My point is inarguable: You should have the Pangolin scroll. You would make better use of it and—"
"Shut up, Keiko," Noburi said tiredly. "I'm not discussing this with you. We've got actual problems to deal with."
"But—"
"Keiko, stop," Hazō said sharply. "We don't have time for your self-hate right now. If it actually makes sense for you to give Noburi the scroll then it will still make sense tomorrow, and we can debate it then. Right now, we need to focus."
Keiko glared at each of them in turn. "Fine. We were discussing combat capacity."
"Right. Okay, getting more seals is probably the highest-value thing we can ask for per unit time. Noburi already pointed out that Jiraiya won't have time to teach us any jutsu, but maybe he can point us to some good teachers. What else?"
"Weapons?" Noburi asked dubiously. "I can't really think what he might have that would actually matter, but I figured someone should say it."
"Strategic expertise. Hazō is an excellent tactician and usually has good advice for training, but we lack any experience at larger-scale military planning."
Hazō digested that for a moment. "You're not wrong—"
Noburi laughed. "Way to be modest, bro."
"—You're not wrong that we lack experience with large-scale military planning and it's worth asking about if there's time. Still, if we're having to plan large-scale military engagements then we're doing something wrong."
"Fair. All right, the topic of offensive combat capacity is likely well covered by acquiring more seals and advice on teachers. On the defensive side, we could get a briefing on enemy capabilities so that we can start planning defenses."
"Kagome's got defenses pretty well covered," Noburi noted, "but yeah, knowing more would be useful. He can't defend against something he hasn't thought of."
"That is inaccurate. A defense intended to serve against one threat may well work against others, despite that second category not having been promoted to conscious awareness."
"Pedant."
"I have noticed that you consistently mispronounce the word 'correct'."
Noburi blew a raspberry at her, then turned serious again. "Speaking of Kagome and therefore seals, we should hand Jiraiya every seal we've got that could possibly be useful in this fight. Between the three of us, we've likely got enough explosive tags to outfit the entire attack force."
"Indeed. I shall include my skywalker seals in the package as well. He may or may not choose to dole them out, but he can make better use of them than can we."
"Hang on," Hazō said. "You've got skywalkers with you?"
"Of course. Are you implying that you don't?"
"But...we talked about this! We all agreed that we were going to leave them in Leaf because it wasn't worth taking even the slightest risk of breaching OPSEC."
"They are not on me, obviously. They remain safely ensconced in my tessera's training hall on the Seventh Path."
"Speaking of OPSEC risks," Noburi said, pointedly glancing towards the silent and motionless Cat.
"She has been briefed," Keiko said, offering the woman in question a respectful nod.
"Have you?" Hazō asked. "I don't mean to be rude, but...."
"It's a fair question," the woman said. "Yes, I have." She looked over at Keiko. "How did you know?"
"Here we go," Noburi muttered.
"Production of skywalkers is still bottlenecked by number of available sealsmiths who can make them, so it is not possible to supply more than a small group. The logical group is ANBU, or perhaps even just the subset of ANBU considered most loyal. You are expected to 'work the kinks out' of the tactical office's thinking, and later to serve as cadre for teaching the rest of Leaf ninja once the time is correct."
"Okay, but how do you know I'm in that 'most loyal' grou—"
"You are the second person to bear the nom du guerre 'Cat' in the last six months; your predecessor was killed shortly before Jiraiya became Hokage. This means that you were appointed to ANBU by Jiraiya. There were substantial losses at that time and he needed to refill the ANBU ranks quickly, but he was also in a delicate political position and could not afford the possibility of drama, spies, or hidden agendas. He has been Leaf's senior intelligence officer for decades, so he would have been familiar with the personnel jackets of most of Leaf's top ninja. He would have inducted those with excellent skills, but only if they were also above reproach."
Cat considered that. "ANBU requires a very particular set of skills and there aren't that many senior ninja, even before a wagonload of them got whacked. He might have had to make some compromises."
"In the unlikely event that he chose someone untrustworthy, you would still have been vetted by Nara Shikaku after your induction. It is wildly unlikely that you deceived both men."
"I could be a spy for Nara himself."
Keiko raised a contemptuous eyebrow. "Nara is not foolish enough to put his own advantage above that of Leaf in times such as those in which we currently live. First, because he is fully aware that Jiraiya could and would kill him on the spot if such a thing came to light. Second, because there is no clear advantage to doing so. Nara is the Jōnin Commander and the closest advisor to the Hokage; so long as he maintains Jiraiya's trust he will have all the information and access he could possibly want. Even if there were some potential advantage to compromising an ANBU agent, it would not outweigh the literally existential risk of causing Jiraiya to feel betrayed. In the counterfactual universe where Nara Shikaku would attempt something so catastrophically stupid, it would be with an Ino-Shika-Chō clan member, as those are the only people whose loyalty he could trust for such a thing. You are of the Sarutobi who, while not opposed to the Ino-Shika-Chō—"
"What makes you think I'm Sarutobi?" Cat demanded, tilting her head such that her ANBU mask caught the flickering light of the fog.
Keiko eyed her with the expression of displeased schoolmarms everywhere. "Please. Your name is Sarutobi Chiyoko and you are Sarutobi Asuma's second cousin. I have seen you unmasked no fewer than six times."
"Were my highly classified secret identity actually this...'Chiyoko', you said?...were that my actual secret identity, I would be curious to know how you connected a random ninja to a masked ANBU."
Hazō and Noburi exchanged amused glances.
Keiko began ticking points off on her fingers. "You are female, placing you in a minority of ninja overall. You are ANBU, meaning that your combat skills are special jōnin at an absolute minimum. You were selected by Jiraiya at a time when he was feeling excessively paranoid about traitors, so you definitely did not come from the Hyūga or several related clans. It was also unlikely that you came from the Ino-Shika-Chō since Jiraiya is desperate not to become too dependent on them. There are a limited number of female ninja with combat skills rated special jōnin or higher who do not come from one of those clans. The Sarutobi are the clan of Jiraiya's teacher and father figure; he would have a higher than usual instinctive degree of trust in a Sarutobi. Collect those facts together and combine them with your build, your mannerisms, your voice, your gait, your kenjutsu specialty, and the fact that I have freqently seen you dining at the tea shop across from Hokage Tower while holding a tabby cat in your lap with that exact sword on the table beside you, and the answer is obvious."
Cat considered her for a moment.
"Hm."
"You get used to it," Hazō said with a grin.
"Hm."
"Keiko," Noburi asked with an amused grin, "did you front-load all that stuff about skills and clan and such just to sound clever, even though the part about the sword was all you actually needed?"
"As I was saying, I agree that we should give Jiraiya all of our seals. Moving on—"
o-o-o-o
Dinner was done with dishes cleaned and put away by the time Jiraiya came home.
"Sage's browsweat, you kids went bonkers with the questions," Jiraiya called, chuckling his way through the door and waving the (only moderately!) mountainous stack of papers on which the team had written their questions. Hazō noted that he did take the time to check that the privacy seals were in place and active. "I've scribbled some answers and we can go over them after I get some food in me."
"Actually, sir, there was something I didn't put in the questions," Hazō said, setting aside the latest sheaf of explosives he'd been scribing. "I had some thoughts about the battle. They're probably obvious and you've probably thought of all of them but I'd like to offer them anyway, just in case."
"Additionally, we have dinner prepared," Keiko added, laying a plate of greens, fish, and grapes on the table and pouring cold water into the mug that stood ready.
"You are now my favorite child," Jiraiya said, dropping gratefully down at the table and starting to shovel in the food. "There was food at the meetings, but I kept forgetting to eat."
"Cookies?" Noburi asked, offering a plate of straight-from-the-oven piping-hot cookies that had been bought eight hours ago at a local bakery and kept in the timeless interior of a storage seal until just now.
"Ooooh!" Jiraiya said, snorfling three of them off the plate and juggling them from hand to hand so as not to burn himself. "Yum! You are now my favorite child."
"Hey!" Hazō said. "They told me that I was your favorite child!"
"Should have remembered the cookies," Noburi said with a grin.
"Pfah."
"Don't worry, kid. I was being humorous. In truth, I love you all precisely the same amount."
"Which is to say, not at all because you have known us only a few months?"
"Keiko!"
Jiraiya dropped the cookies and clutched his chest. "I am wounded! Stabbed to the depths of my soul by an unloving child!" He dropped the pretence and smiled at all of them. "'Love' is a weird and squishy word that everyone uses differently. I like you three as people. Your company is—usually!—a source of energy for me instead of a drain upon it. I respect your intelligence and your skills and I am confident that you will all end up as S-rank ninja with tales about you that are almost but not quite the equal of those told about me and my team who are, obviously, the best ninja there ever have been or ever will be. I trust you at least as much as I trust anyone else, and I will go pretty damn far to protect you. No, strike that. There are no words outside of the T&I handbook lovingly written by the hand of the very messed-up Morino Ibiki to describe the horrific fate that I would visit upon anyone attempting to harm any of you. I am looking forward to sharing, in the fullness of time and under appropriate OPSEC conditions, the entirety of my knowledge and life experience with you. Perhaps in the form of bedtime stories while you all cuddle adorably into the covers with eyes wide in excitement at my marvelous tales. And I feel all of these things in the precisely equal and appropriate degrees that will soothe away any ruffled feathers, prevent future jealousies, and not make me sound like a total wuss."
Team Uplift exchanged jaundiced glances.
"I too would like to make a statement of positive feelings in your direction that I will carefully mask with humor in order to not leave myself emotionally vulnerable."
"Hey, I thought it was sweet!"
"Yeah, but you're a suckup, bro."
"Oooh, you are just asking for it, Nobby!"
"Children!" Jiraiya said, patting the air in a 'calm down' gesture with the hand that was not busy shoving grapes into his mouth. "Hazō, let's hear these ideas for the attack group."
"Yes sir. Keep in mind, I'm assuming you and the other Kage have already thought of most of these and I'm offering them only for the sake of—"
"Yeah, yeah. Hop to it." The Toad Sage grinned and bent over his plate, shoveling the fish in as fast as his chopsticks could move.
"Okay," Hazō said, hauling three oilskin-wrapped packages up from under the table and stacking them beside Jiraiya. "Well, first: Here's every seal the three of us are carrying, plus I made a bunch more explosives. This should be enough to give everyone in the strike group at least a few of most of it. Some of it, like the Lesser Barrier Formation seals and the Five Seal Barriers, probably won't be useful but better for you to have it and not need it."
"Thanks," Jiraiya said, nodding appreciatively as he flipped one of the packages open and riffled through it. "I was actually going to ask you for some of these, so I appreciate you volunteering—oh, cool, you did have skywalkers!"
"I don't know what you're doing about revealing them to the other Kage, but—"
"The policy is full disclosure," Jiraiya said, not looking up from counting the skywalkers. "None of us are fucking around at this point. Oh, sure, we're all holding back one or two cards apiece, but there's been a remarkably open discussion of capabilities. With these skywalkers added to the ones I was carrying, I'll be able to outfit the entire force with at least one pair, plus a couple extra for the Kage. Thanks, kids. This will really help."
Keiko blushed.
"That's good news," Hazō said, suppressing the grin that kept trying to rise up. Serious grown-up chūnin did not grin in the middle of strategy sessions! "Next thing: I hate to sound greedy, but could you sign off on our chūnin promot—"
Jiraiya grinned as he conjured three scrolls from inside his haori and tossed one to each child. "Congratulations on your promotions, my children. You are officially chūnin of Leaf."
"Wicked," Noburi said, unrolling the scroll and feasting his eyes upon the vermillion ink and the gold-leaf stamp.
"Thank you, sir. Okay, tactical thoughts about the battle, and this is where the 'you have probably thought of it' stuff starts: Sonic damage is pretty rare and hard to counter, yes?
"Yep. I'll be fighting with Ma and Pa Toad on my shoulders. They do this sonic genjutsu that will absolutely fuck you up. There's a risk of friendly fire, though, so I'm handing out Banshee Slayers to everyone so that they aren't affected."
"Okay, well, we've got a bunch of Banshee Slayers in there but we've also got Earbusters and Banshee Fuckers. You should spread those around and let people go crazy with them."
"Good thought. And yes, I had thought of it, but I'm glad to see you did too." He gave Hazō an approving nod before going back to tearing into his fish. Keiko was already laying a second plate in front of him.
"We've also got a bunch of Kagome's seals here. Implosion bombs, directional explosives, and three clearing charges."
Jiraiya looked up in curiosity. "Clearing charges?"
Noburi, Keiko, and Hazō all pulled off the leather belts they wore and placed them on the table in front of Jiraiya. "Clearing charge," Hazō repeated. "It's a directional explosive seal in the form of a long strip, sandwiched between the two layers of the belt. You put your finger on this notch here in order to touch the seal so you can activate it. It goes off in a ten-degree cone about ten feet long, straight out from the surface of the belt. Make sure your arms, legs, and allies are out of the way. It's useful if you find yourself surrounded by enemies at melee range—trigger the belt, cut them all in half."
"They are also useful for cutting through bars or other obstacles," Keiko offered. "Merely loop the belt around the obstacle and activate. Although it is normal to trigger them instantaneously, they do have a timer that can be set for up to three seconds."
"Which means you could buckle the belt so that it's a loop, set the timer, and then throw it like this," Hazō said, miming the action. "Drop it among some enemies, boom, squish."
Jiraiya snorted. "Boom, squish indeed. Kagome is going to be sorry he missed this fight. Given the loadout you kids are handing over and the fact that Deidara will be on the field, there is going to be an absolutely monumental amount of explosives being thrown around."
Hazō chuckled. "You're not wrong, sir. Anyway, if there are more seals you'd like me to make before you go, let me know. Goo Bombs, maybe?"
Jiraiya nodded. "Yeah, those would be good. Thanks."
"Glad to help, sir." Hazō paused, chewing his lip nervously. "Sir...excuse me if this is presumptuous, but are you sure this isn't a trap?"
"Hm? How do you mean?" Jiraiya had moved on from the fish to the plate of cookies and was working his way through them with single-minded intensity. He did not look at Hazō as he spoke, but there was an undertone to his voice that sounded like a pleased and somewhat amused tutor leading a pupil. Hazō found it both flattering and frustrating.
"The primary piece of intel was from Team 'Bloodrage' who were, frankly, morons. If they were working for Akatsuki, why would they have been sent to the Exams? They had absolutely no subtlety. They could not have been more obviously bad guys without jumping up and down waving torches and yelling 'we are bad guys!' What if this is a trap by Akatsuki?"
"Consider the outcomes," Keiko said. "Mist is currently militarily weak, with no S-rank ninja available and a Kage who is only chūnin-level in terms of combat power. The four S-rank Kage, plus a major fraction of the Elemental Nations ninja power—in terms of skill, not numbers—will be going to an isolated location far from any support, where they expect to engage in battle with Akatsuki, a group of S-rank mercenaries. The Kage and their support will be prioritizing haste over caution. Finally, the location was chosen by the enemy, who has had weeks or even months to prepare. One of the enemy is an explosives master of such power that when Kagome discusses him, it is in tones disturbingly reminiscent of those used by Mari-sensei when reading the advertising copy for one of your so-called 'romance' novels."
Jiraiya grinned. "Well, it sounds bad when you say it like that...."
Keiko raised a 'I am not amused' eyebrow at him. "How then would you say it?"
Jiraiya sobered. "I would say that you've got a legitimate concern, but I think the odds are against it being nothing but a giant trap, and strongly against it being a ploy by That Woman to kill us all. If the four of us got killed there would be a war and that war would hit Mist. She's gotten good deals from the rest of us, so it's in her best interest to keep things on an even keel while she rebuilds Mist's power." He paused to take a swig of water. "As to the rest...well, I suppose it doesn't hurt to tell you now, at least some of it.
"Orochimaru is back in Leaf. After we realized that that board game was a message I spent the entire night tearing it apart and I eventually figured out where I was being invited to meet. I got in touch with him and he came in to Leaf. He's been living at one of our black sites since a few days after the games night."
Team Uplift gaped and Jiraiya chuckled.
"Yeah. Anyway, he was part of Akatsuki for a while there. They recruited him for his...specialized expertise, as part of a thing they were putting together. Oro agreed to help, but when he found out what they were working on he bailed. Based on what he was able to tell me I'm confident that they have not been able to prepare Nagi Island too much, that that is in fact where they will be, and that we don't have more than a couple of days to get there and stop them before things get really, really bad. I can't say more than that but trust me: Anything's possible, but I'm willing to bet my neck that our intel is substantively correct."
"Okay," Hazō said, not happy but recognizing that there was no point in pushing. "Well, just in case it's useful, here's a backup plan for you: Kagome told us that everyone in Akatsuki is a summoner—"
"Although some of the things he claim they summon were nonsense," Keiko grumbled. "Uchiha as the Crow Summoner, certainly. A shark summoner, absolutely. Hidan as the 'Death' Summoner? Kakuzu as the Elemental Summoner? Sasori as Golem Summoner? Ridiculous! There are no such things!" She crossed her arms over her chest and glowered.
"Anyway," Hazō said. "They're all summoners. Uchiha Itachi is the Crow summoner, so we'll use him as an example. Get a bunch of our summoners—you, Lady Tsunade, Orochimaru, anyone else you know of—together on the Seventh path and go to Crow territory. Force the Crow Boss to summon Uchiha right in the middle of your prepared ambush. Kill him, move on to the next territory and repeat."
"Not bad, kid," Jiraiya said, nodding approval.
Hazō smiled.
"Except for the fact that Boss Summons cannot drag their summoner to the Seventh Path, and a summoner can leave the Seventh Path at any time with only a second or two of warning."
The smile disappeared. "Wait, what? When she first made contact, Pantsā threatened Keiko saying that he could get to her even on the Human Path."
Jiraiya shrugged and snagged another cookie. "Dunno what to tell you. Maybe he just meant that he could get his allied clans to send their summoners after her."
"Oh." Hazō glowered at his utterly blameless and unresponsive teacup.
"Good thought, though."
"Feh."
"That is simultaneously a relief and a pity," Keiko said. "There is, however, one more way in which we could perhaps be of use. We have already seen that it is possible for the two of us to exchange physical objects on the Seventh Path, thereby moving them overland nigh-instantaneously. We could use this method to ship you barrels of Wakahisa chakra water."
"Hm," Jiraiya said, looking interested. "Interesting thought. Have you actually tried taking the water to the Seventh Path?"
"No," Keiko said. "I have a request in to Pantsā to ensure that there is not some reason I should not do so. He was strident enough against the use of my bloodline on the Seventh Path that I felt I should ensure using the Wakahisa bloodline would not be an issue. I expect to hear back from him soon."
"Well, we're already planning to bring a bunch of Wakahisa along with us, so in this particular case it's not essential and, frankly, I'd rather keep this one back as one of those ace-in-the-holes that I don't tell the other Kage about. Still, it would be a pretty cool trick going forward. Noburi, I don't need it for this battle, but if you would be willing to keep me supplied while I'm out and about from now on, that would be crazy awesome."
"Sure!" the stocky boy said, flashing his Clan Leader a thumbs-up.
"You kids really are a font of miracles, aren't you?" Jiraiya said, smiling in bemusement. "I am just the most terribly cleverest guy ever for deciding to adopt all of you."
"As I recall, there was a substantial amount of bribery involved," Keiko noted sardonically.
"Pshaw. Details, details. I still decided."
"Speaking of terrible segues," Hazō said quickly, "what's the story with Lady Tsunade? Will she be with the strike group? If she comes back and you...don't, can we trust her to advise us honestly?"
"Hey, have a little faith, kid. I am the Gallant Jiraiya, Hero of the Ages. Toad Sage, Master of the Bedroom Arts—"
"Blah blah blah, can we trust her or not?!"
Jiraiya laughed. "Yeah, you can. She'll give you the best advice she can, which isn't always the same as good advice. She won't actively harm you—at least, not by her definitions—unless she decides that you're working against Leaf. On the other hand, she's pretty much a force of nature. She's used to taking over a situation and getting her way. There's a reasonable chance that if she comes back and I don't then she'll decide to take over the clan 'for your own good'." He pulled a scroll out of his sleeve and extended it to Hazō, all joking put aside.
"This scroll is locked with a seal that she'll know how to open, and any attempt to open it without disarming the seal will destroy the whole thing and everything nearby. It's my last message to her and part of that message is my request that she support you in your role as Clan Head, but also that she let you be the Clan Head. That she give you the final say, even if she thinks you're making a mistake. I don't know if she'll respect it, but it's the best I can do."
Hazō blinked against eyes that were suddenly a bit misty and cleared his throat. "Thank you, sir."
The solemnity disappeared and the japester was back. "Ah, well, a guy's gotta look out for his kids, right? Besides, there's some other bits in there too—things I always wanted to say but didn't want to get clobbered for." He gave Noburi a bawdy wink filled with implications for what the 'things' might have been.
"I guess that pretty much leaves us with just one thing," Hazō said, standing up. Noburi and Keiko followed.
"What might that be?" Jiraiya asked, setting his chopsticks down and suddenly looking wary.
"I would like to give you this," Keiko said, placing a...thing on the table in front of Jiraiya.
The Toad Sage studied the thing carefully for long seconds, his mind very clearly shrieking in panic as it tried to comprehend the horror bestowed upon him.
"Keiko," Jiraiya asked calmly, "why is there a lime-green shuriken in front of me?"
"It is your last shuriken."
"I see." Pause. "Why is my name on it, along with an arrow that points to a purple-and-red blob that is probably intended to be my face with a stupid expression and lipstick?"
"The standard ninja idiom 'she has drawn her last shuriken' indicates that the individual in question is in a situation so desperate that there are no options remaining. This is your last shuriken, and it was made so deliberately hideous in order to ensure that you are unwilling to draw it in front of an enemy even if the universe is collapsing around you. You'll make your way safe and sound out of any pinch, because the alternative is to let your friends and enemies see you wielding that shuriken in battle."
Hazō and Noburi both looked askance at the slight shift in the pattern and tone of Keiko's speech. Hazō barely managed to restrain himself from making a joke about lupchanzen before the expression on Keiko's face shut him up. It was oddly vulnerable, and clearly not appropriate for humor. He glanced at Noburi to make sure their brother wouldn't spoil the moment, but Noburi was smiling and saying nothing.
"Thank you, Keiko," Jiraiya said softly, turning the shuriken over in his hands. He flicked his hand and the shuriken was gone...and then he turned the hand palm-up and drew the weapon back from within his left sleeve before tucking it away again. He looked up at his adoptive daughter. "I will be sure to keep it with me at all times."
Keiko nodded and stepped back.
Hazō waited a moment to let the mood settle, then stepped in close so he was looming over Jiraiya and could waggle a scolding finger at him. "Yeah, well, maybe she gives you presents, but that's not my style. We're your family now. We're looking forward to meeting Naruto and we'll adopt him and take care of him and make him Hokage and all that, but! We are not going to put up with you ducking out of being his teacher, and ours. There is a limit to being afraid of weddings and you owe us a truly epic victory party, so you damn well make it back to us!" He leaned forward and hugged the Hokage tight, being joined moments later by Noburi.
The older man looked surprised and slightly alarmed, but he smiled and hugged Hazō and Noburi back as best he could given his seated posture.
Keiko stood back, unable to join the hug. Jiraiya held her gaze and smiled reassuringly even as he patted her brothers, his sons, on the back where they clung around his neck.
XP AWARD: 1 (additionally, -1 for plan length)
It is now late at night and everyone is asleep. The strike forces from Leaf and Sand have both arrived and collapsed in a barracks. The plan is to leave in about six hours. Jiraiya is going to go fall into bed himself for now. He has left answers to most of your questions scribbled on the sheets that you sent to him. The contents of those answers have not been defined; we'll probably use them as an excuse going forward to say "Yes, Jiraiya said it was okay to do that" or "Jiraiya's notes say that..." etc.
Vote time! What to do now? Options include:
Go with the flow. Unless @Velorien chooses to do something else, the next update will be you back in Leaf.
Go talk to non-Leaf people—ninja, merchants, etc. Right now if it's essential, preferably tomorrow morning.
Go talk to Leaf people. Again, either now or in the morning. Perhaps you want to talk them into taking a side trip on the way home, etc?
Write in.
Voting ends on Wednesday, April 25, 2019, at 12pm London time.
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Interlude: Honoka's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day, Part 3
Interlude: Honoka's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day, Part 3
"Stop that."
Mari looked up from where she was scrubbing the kitchen floor. Kagome was glowering in the doorway.
Silently, she set the brush and bucket against the wall and climbed to her feet.
"I need some advice," he said. "There's a teacher being mean to Honoka and I'm going to deal with it."
A flutter of nausea went through Mari's stomach. "Kagome...I can't."
"Either tell me how to do it your way or I'll do it my way."
She digested that for a moment.
"What is 'your way'?"
He narrowed his eyes. "Really?"
She nodded thoughtfully. Decades of training at lying and manipulating everyone, including herself, came to the fore and automatically controlled her breathing so as to keep the worms of fear in her stomach from growing into snakes and chewing their way out into full-blown panic.
There were ways. All it required was the choice and the words would be there. Whoever the target was could be destroyed, humiliated, terrified...so many ways. That was, after all, exactly what Mari did: Destroy, humiliate, terrify, manipulate. The self-disgust was by now so familiar that it was just a sense of exhaustion.
She should do this. Honoka was a sweet child and deserved protection, so wouldn't that be a good reason to justify twisting someone's mind, filling it with crawling worms, and adding one more mark to her tally? It was fitting, wasn't it? It could even be argued that it would be a kindness to the target; Mari's way, evil and vile as it would no doubt be, would at least leave the man undamaged. Physically, anyway. Kagome might not be so kind.
She had been enjoying these recent weeks of silence and hard work. The scrubbing, brushing, digging, cooking, kata, and other repetitive tasks allowed her to dwell in the peace of no-mind. There were no choices to make, no decisions, only clear orders that carried her from morning to night. She knew she had caused no harm and had even done a tiny amount of good. Not enough to even appear on the dripping-red ledger of her soul, but it was there. Could she throw that away, undo the tiny steps of progress and go back to what she had been?
No.
"I'm sorry," she said. "Please don't ask this." She cast her eyes down, forcing her body to stand limp. She knew exactly the effect she would evoke in this posture: disgust at her weakness. It would be easy to provoke a better response. If she clasped her hands and hunched her shoulders just a little she could look pitiful, melt Kagome's heart and leave him feeling guilty for asking. If she stood tall and met his gaze while tightening her lips a nigh-invisible amount and creasing her forehead the tiniest bit, he would feel grudging respect. Kagome...poor, sweet Kagome. He was so easy to manipulate that she couldn't not do it. All she could do was choose the message such that he knew it was none of his fault that she was useless.
Kagome stared at her for long seconds, visibly yearning for her to crack, to come back and be her old manipulative, evil self. She refused.
"Fine," he said at last. "I'll do it myself."
He turned and left, his steps soft and silent as a hunting cat's.
o-o-o-o
Shishido Yusei fumbled his key out of the lock and shoved the door open with his hip, edging inside with all four bags of groceries precariously balanced.
"I'm home!" he called to the apartment he knew perfectly well was empty. The former habit had become self-mocking irony.
He made his way to the tiny kitchen and set the bags down to free his hands so that he could open the stove and light a long splinter off the coals from the morning. He lifted the shade off the lamp so he could transfer the tiny flame, then adjusted the wick to minimize the amount of smoke and replaced the shade. The ceiling over the lamp was soot-stained; he really should clean that at some point.
There was a note on the table.
He froze, senses heightened as he probed his environment for threats. Nothing moved and there was no taste of another presence, so after a few moments he edged close enough that he could make out the kanji.
The first lesson for teachers: Self-control. Grade: F- You receive 7 demerits. Fetch a slate and chalk, go directly to the roof for detention. Sit in the chair, no talking, no chakra. Write 'I will maintain self-control' on the slate, wipe clean, repeat. 4 hours. Disrespect or disobedience will bring additional demerits. —Your Instructor
"What the fuck...?"
He leaned closer, studying the page more closely without touching it. It was low-quality paper, the sort of thing you could buy in a dozen places around the city. The writing was sloppy, probably written with the off-hand so as to disguise the source. He inspected it from all sides, then carefully picked it up and turned it over. The opposite side was blank.
He stared at the page in confusion, then shrugged and dropped it back on the table before taking a turn around the apartment. It was a small place, so the search took less than a minute. No one. No other notes or unfamiliar objects on the desk, or the bed, or any of the bookshelves. The water in the jug was still pure and clean, the desk and bed undisturbed.
Clearly, someone was pranking him. Maybe Matsunaga? He had always been a jokester. It was a bit of a weird prank, but whatever.
Shrugging, he tossed a few splits of wood in the stove. Time to make dinner.
Humming quietly, he opened the cabinet to put the rice away. There was a snake on the shelf.
He leaped back, chakra surging through him as he snatched a kunai from his belt.
The snake did not move. It simply lay there, coiled up, staring at him. The lamp gave enough light that Yusei could make out the distinctive red-and-blue stripes along the scales. That was a striped adder, one of the most dangerous snakes in Fire. One bite and Yusei would be convulsing on the floor for several agonizing minutes before mercifully dying.
He waited, chakra singing in his veins, but the thing did nothing. After ten long seconds, Yusei slowly relaxed from his crouch. He backed out of the kitchen and went to the closet, pulling out the broom that he'd been putting off using for a bit too long. Going back into the kitchen, he stood as far away as possible and poked at the snake with the handle of the broom. They were ambush predators that could strike with blinding speed but they didn't cover ground quickly. If he could get it out of the cabinet and into open space then he could easily get behind it and kill it.
The snake didn't react at all to the poking, it simply flopped loosely. More vigorous jabs and a bit of awkward raking sent it tumbling out of the cabinet in a ropey pile. It was, very clearly, stone dead.
He approached cautiously, one inch at a time, and pinned the thing's head down with the bristles of the broom just in case it was playing possum. The head was the most dangerous part...except that damage sufficient to kill a striped adder would typically rupture its poison glands and flood the body, leaving its skin toxic. Perhaps lethally so, perhaps only damagingly.
No, the snake was in fact dead. Someone had pithed it through the back of its head with a long, thin weapon, probably a senbon needle. Whoever it was, they had a frightening degree of skill; they had destroyed the brain without touching the poison glands, meaning the snake would be safe to touch. Moreover, they had written along the thing's belly: -1 demerit. Lesson: Punishments must be proportionate to the offense and must not impact the student's functionality. Command: Eat this. —Your Instructor
He studied the writing for a moment, then fetched a pair of thick work gloves and used them to sink the snake's fangs into its own body so that they weren't exposed. He then dropped the dead reptile into the folds of his least-favorite shirt and tied it shut. He placed the bundle on the floor near the door. In the morning, before work, he would run it out into the woods. No way was he eating that thing. It looked like the poison glands hadn't burst, but he wasn't taking the chance.
He cooked his egg-with-rice-and-carrot dinner on high alert, jumping at every creak of a floorboard or flicker of the lamp. Nothing else happened.
Once the food was eaten and the dish cleaned and put away, he considered his course. He could read as he usually did but, all things considered, bed sounded better.
He took a turn around the apartment, ensuring that the door was locked and the traps were in place on the windows. He did a final check, purely for the sake of paranoia, to verify that he was the only one present and there were no other surprises in the cabinets.
He was checking the door one last time when the lamp he carried gave off a faint sizzle. There was a burst of smoke and then a human worth of copper-scented blood poured out, extinguishing the lamp and soaking his hand and pant leg before splashing across the floor. Yusei screamed and threw the lamp, a chakra-boosted leap carrying him back and away.
He crouched in the corner, kunai in hand and eyes panic-wide. It was long past sundown and the lamp was extinguished, so the room was pitch black.
It was probably minutes before he managed to uncurl himself and make his way into the kitchen to rummage up a candle. He lit it off the coals in the stove and held it aloft with a shaking hand that cast dancing shadows around the room.
There was no one there.
Cautiously, he edged around the corner so he could see the entryway and the door. There was blood everywhere, soaking indelibly into the hardwood of the floor and the plaster of the wall. The lamp was a shattered mess in the corner. There was an oilskin package next to it.
He edged forward, water-walking so as not to step in the blood, and used the broom to poke at the package. It was long and rectangular, perhaps two feet long and two inches by two inches.
With great trepidation, he unwrapped the packet and opened the box inside. It contained a thin willow switch and a note.
A sinking feeling in his stomach told him that the switch he was looking at was the very same one that normally resided in the top right-hand drawer of his desk at school. The very firmly locked top right-hand drawer.
With shaking fingers, he unfolded the note. 5 demerits for being truant at detention. You are above 10 demerits. Administer the switch to both palms before doing anything else. Full force, please. Lesson: Students must obey the rules. —Your Instructor
He stared at the note, too frightened to move.
o-o-o-o
GLOMP!
"Hi, sensei!"
"Hi, squirt!" He straightened up, hoisting her off the ground and spinning around so her feet flew out.
"Eeeeeeeeeeee!!!!"
Sadly, he only did two spins before plonking her down and ruffling her hair. "How was your day?"
"Good! We learned about Lord First!"
"Oh? Was that...what was that stinker's name? SheepyDough? SeepyDough?"
She giggled. "Shishido-sensei, sensei. You know that."
He looked completely innocent. Or, at least, tried. And failed, miserably. "Who, me? I don't know anything."
"Yes you do!"
"Do not!"
"Do too!"
"Well, okay. Maybe I know a couple things. Anyway, how was SheepyDough today?"
She looked at him suspiciously. "Why?"
"I just want to know if he's still giving you trouble. Was he mean to you?"
She eyed him even more suspiciously. "No, sensei. He was fine."
"Did he seem...I dunno, sick?" Her suspicious glare was clearly getting to him because he hurried to add, "No, really, there's something going around." He gave a demonstrative, and incredibly fake, cough.
"He seemed fine, sensei. A little jumpy maybe. And tired, I think. He kept losing his place in the book."
"Didn't have any trouble holding it, though?"
"...No?"
"Hm."
Suspicion mode, superduper activate! "What did you do, sensei?"
"Me? Nothing."
Whenever Honoka was being shifty, Mom would cross her arms over her chest and tap her toe while giving her daughter a stink eye. Honoka applied the same tactics to Kagome-sensei and had to suppress a grin when he became visibly nervous.
"Oh, hey, that reminds me, I brought cookies!"
"Yay, cookies!" She eagerly snatched the proffered treat and snorfled it up, all suspicion forgotten.
"Ready to go?" Hazō asked, glancing up for just a moment and Keiko walked in, and then going back to obsessively verifying that all his storage seals were where they were supposed to be. He'd do another pass through the room to verify that nothing had been left behind. He'd already done three, but a fourth would be good for his nerves.
"Indeed."
Now Hazō glanced up for real. Keiko was sounding annoyed—only mildly so, yet still something that should be addressed.
"Problem?" His hand drifted towards the pangolin gauntlets that dangled from his belt.
"No. I merely needed to finish arranging escorts to Leaf for those merchants. This process was quite pleasant with Rai and most of the others, but I find interactions with Saito to be...wearing." She pursed her lips in annoyance, then visibly chose to shake it off. "And you? Have you said your farewells?"
"Yup. Momma was sad to see me go, but she appreciated hearing that her advice helped with Captain Zabuza. Hopefully maybe we can convince Jiraiya to let her come back to Leaf at some point. If not, I'll maybe see about coming here for a visit."
"On the mark, people! Let's go, move it!"
The voice drifting through the window belonged to Miki Machi, the fussbudget chūnin in charge of the return to Leaf. The woman had started breakfast with an announcement and been running around chivying everyone ever since.
"Our dread mistress calls," Noburi said with a grin, swinging his barrel up onto his shoulders. "Good to go?"
"Good to go."
"Of course."
o-o-o-o
"Mind if I join you?" Hazō asked, drifting up to one of the campfires that composed the Leaf trail camp. They were two days out from Mist, due to arrive home tomorrow, and they'd broken early tonight. The sun was barely below the horizon, and there were a variety of fires scattered around as people spread out and divided up into small friend groups. Captain Miki had been fairly tight-reined to begin with, more so after Hazō took her aside to mention that he was worried about ambush, but she had authorized people to have a little space between their fires. After being packed together in Mist, everyone was glad to have some elbow room.
Nakano glanced up in surprise and then grinned, gesturing to the log across the fire from himself. "Grab a seat. You remember my team from game night, right? Genda Jitsuku and Sugiyama Shinji."
Sugiyama was short, muscular, with darker skin that Hazō was used to seeing and frizzy hair. His appearance was so unusual that Hazō had to remind himself not to stare. Genda was, to Hazō's shame, easy to not stare at. Her eyes were lovely, definitely her best feature; they were a brown so pale they seemed to glow, but a bad scar trailed across her left cheek, starting at the bridge of her nose and ending at the base of her jaw. It distracted from the eyes and ruined what had already been a plain face.
"And that worthless reprobate toasting the apples is Jinno Yūdai," Nakano continued. "Watch out for him. He's a troublemaker. Good cook though, so hurry up with the damn apples, man. Yūdai, this is Gōketsu Hazō."
"Please don't do that," Hazō said quickly, as Jinno started to bow deeply. "It makes me uncomfortable."
The other genin straightened up, expression displaying a mix of 'confused' and 'nervous'. "Um...sorry?" he offered.
Hazō sighed and plonked down on the log. "Look," he said. "I recognize how this is going to sound, but I'm not used to being a clan kid. Yes, my name used to be 'Kurosawa' and yes, that's a big-deal clan in Mist. I had the name, but I didn't grow up in the clan. My mom got thrown out when I was a kid because she insisted on marrying a clanless ninja for love. The Kurosawa tried to recruit me at one point and I told them to get stuffed. Then I got tricked into going missing, and then me and my team bought our way into Leaf on the strength of some rare advantages—two of us are sealsmiths, Keiko is the Pangolin Summoner, and so on—and Jiraiya formed the Gōketsu mostly as a screw-you to the other clans. I've been in a clan for, like, a minute, and it still feels weird. We're a 'clan' of six people, so it's not really all that different from when we were living in the woods. So please don't do the bowing and scraping thing."
Jinno glanced at Nakano with raised eyebrows.
"He's cool," Nakano said. "His whole family are." He grinned at Hazō. "A little weird, and they cheat like hell at Strategic Dominance, but cool."
"Hey, I'm still a ninja," Hazō said defensively. "As I recall you were no pure soul yourself, Mr. 'Oops, I bumped the table let me help you reset your pieces while I steal half of them and replace them with garbage'."
"Hey!" Nakano yelped. "I did not steal half your pieces!" He paused. "A quarter at most. Probably more like ten percent, actually. And the ones I swapped them for weren't garbage."
"Yeah, but you got my Sharpshooter! It completely wrecked my entire counter-Mari-sensei strategy in Tea."
"Okay, what are you two talking about?" Jinno demanded.
"That board game we told you about, dumbass," Genda said, rolling her eyes. "You know, where you try to take over the EN?"
"Oh, right."
"About that," Hazō said quickly. "We'll probably be having another game night within a week of us getting back, and you're all invited. Jinno, that includes you."
"Wicked," said the reprobate in question with a grin that immediately made Hazō jealous. The other boy was unfairly handsome and that grin probably made girls swoon over him. Some people had all the luck.
Says the guy who found a sealing instructor in the woods and is now part of the Hokage's clan, whispered the back of his brain. He firmly told it to get stuffed.
"Thank you," Sugiyama said, nodding.
"Yeah, thanks," Genda said. "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why are you here, inviting us to your games night? You were always clan and now you're the Hokage's clan. Inviting us once so as to meet various Leaf ninja and start to develop a network of useful agents, sure. You didn't reach out afterwards, so I figured we didn't make the cut. Now you come to our campfire and invite us again? S'unclear. Why are you here, chatting up a bunch of mudfoots instead of...I dunno, hitting on Ms. I'm So Pretty Yamanaka?"
Hazō puffed out his cheeks, looking up at the stars in thought for a moment, then shrugged. "First off, don't call yourself a mudfoot. As to why I'm here...a lot of reasons, some of them mercenary. I'd like to broaden my social circle. I socialize with the clan kids a lot, but it's exhausting. There's always this undercurrent of sparring. And yeah, Yamanaka is pretty but she's so high-energy that it's hard to keep up. Nara leaves me feeling stupid. Hyūga is a nice girl but her clan is close to drawn knives with mine so I have to be very careful. Inuzuka is...." He trailed off, then smiled and shook his head. "Inuzuka is. Anyway, I don't have any political training and they're most or all clan heirs, so I always feel like I'm losing." He shrugged. "And, like I said, there's some mercenary reasons. You heard the speech I made at the tournament?" He waited for the nods. "I meant it. Clanless get treated like trash in Mist and it looks like the same is true in Leaf. On the other hand, the Gōketsu are a weak clan and we need allies. We have money but we don't know squat about Leaf—the best places to buy stuff, who the movers and shakers are, anything about the backchannels in the ninja hierarchy, nothing. Also, there's only six of us, so we're vulnerable to a lot of different attacks. Clanless ninja"—he gestured around the fire—"lack money and political clout, but there's a lot of you and you know how things work. I think we could help each other, and the Sage knows the Gōketsu need help right now."
"Yeah? You, Mr. Son-of-the-Hokage, need help?"
Hazō looked calmly at Genda. "You're another one like Yamamoto, huh? 'All clans are evil, no clan kid could ever be a decent person, woe is me my life is pain and oppression'? News flash, sister: Life sucks for everyone, just in different ways. I was betrayed by my entire fucking village and struggled to stay alive in the woods for two years. Get over yourself."
Sugiyama started choking and hiding his face behind his hand. Nakano was struggling to keep his face straight and failing, all the while making uncontrollable snorting noises through his nose. Jinno didn't even bother to try to contain his laughter.
"Look," Hazō said after a moment, gesturing apologetically. "We really do need allies, and I'd like it if you four were some of them. Genda, if you can't stand to be around us because we're clan, that's fine. If not, I hope you'll come to games night."
The girl studied him sourly for long seconds, then nodded. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"Okay enough. Gimma deets."
"Deets?"
"'Give me details', except without half of the words," Nakano said. "She does that." He smiled. "Mostly only when she's with friends and/or people she wants to drive crazy. Isn't that right, Itsu?"
Only slightly apocalyptic glare. "Told you not to use that."
"Ohhhhkay. Moving on," Hazō said. "As to games night, we don't have a specific plan, but now that I know you're interested I'll be sure to invite you. As to the rest...I'm thin on details, actually. I've been told I have a problem respecting other people's agency, so I figured I'd just come talk to you guys and find out what you want and what would actually help."
"You think you could hook me up with Yamanaka?" Jinno said, pulling his current apple skewer back from the fire so he could look at Hazō. "I would totally be in for that."
"Like you've got a chance with Yamanaka," Genda snorted. "She keeps a string."
"Hey, I'm not the jealous type. I'm okay with her having a couple boy toys around, just to keep her happy when I'm busy with important stuff." He put the apple skewer back in the fire, holding it down near the coals and turning it carefully.
"Yes, because telling her that she's not part of your 'important stuff' is a great way to get a girl."
"Don't be twisting my words like that, Itsu! I'm very respectful to all my lovelies."
Hazō raised an eyebrow. "'All'?"
"Yeah. There's Eriko and Manami in Leaf, Ayuka in Tanzaku Gai, Mayuka in this little town down the road about twenty miles, and the lovely Hiroka back in Mist."
Hazō looked questioningly at Nakano. The other boy nodded. "Yeah, I don't know how he does it. It's annoying."
"You picked up a girl in Mist?"
"Well, 'picked up' would be a strong word."
"Dunno," Genda said. "Looked like a pick up to me. Pick, grin, words, up, zoom. Yūdai special."
"Okay, I need to hear this."
Genda snorted. "Same every time. Spot a pretty girl, give her that get-dewy grin, say 'Hi, I'm Jinno Yūdai and I'm a super awesome ninja' then swoop her in his arms and zoom off."
"Hey! You're making me sound like a creeper!"
"And?"
"Look," Jinno said, turning to Hazō. "Don't listen to her. I just tell them I'm a ninja and ask if they'd like to go roof-running with me. Or watch me juggle kunai. That works too." He grinned. "Of course, the best is to ask them to go for a walk on the river and see how long it takes for them to realize that I meant on the river. Civvie girls really go for that."
"So...you date civilians?"
Jinno cocked his head, the smile disappearing. "You got a problem with that, clan boy?"
Hazō raised his hands defensively. "Nope, no problem. I'm just surprised, that's all. Most ninja don't seem to have a great attitude towards civilians."
Jinno shrugged and pulled the apple back, testing it carefully before slicing bits off and dropping them into trail mugs that he handed around. There was no mug available for Hazō, so Jinno stuck a section on a long splinter and passed it over.
"Thanks," Hazō said, blowing on the toasted apple before nibbling carefully at it. It was sweet, and hot, and tasted just slightly of woodsmoke before it scorched his tongue. He sucked cold night air across the burn, ignoring the chuckles from his fellow ninja, all of whom had been smart enough to let theirs cool. He set the apple aside and rummaged in his pack for writing supplies so that he could sketch. "The bit that I tasted before burning half my tastebuds off was amazing," he said, letting his hand and arm move on autopilot. "You should teach this to my uncle, he'd love it."
"Your uncle... Oh, he's that cr...that older guy who is always talking about...lup-something?"
"Lupchanzen. Singular lupchanz. Yeah, that's him. He's a pretty good cook and he's got a real sweet tooth. Did you put something in these?"
"You poke holes in them with a senbon, then soak 'em in watered honey overnight before toasting them. Pretty good, right?"
"Really good, yeah. Going back to what we were talking about a minute ago...it's cool that you have a good attitude towards civilians. I'd like to sponsor a bunch of till'n'fill missions—ones with good pay, not just pocket change. Would you guys be up for that?"
Nakano cocked his head in curiosity. "What do you mean 'good pay'? You're hiring these missions?"
"No, I'm putting bounties on them. The civilians post the normal price, the Gōketsu add money on top of it. Whoever does the mission tells the civilians what's going on, so hopefully they'll start posting more missions."
All four of the other ninja were staring at him in confusion. "Why?" Genda demanded.
"Why what? Why am I doing this?"
"Yeah."
Hazō paused in his sketching, thinking, then allowed his arm to go back to it while he looked at the others. "That's the wrong question. You shouldn't be asking why I'm doing it, you should be asking me why no one else is. You've all got civilian parents, yeah?"
"Yeah, but they're from Leaf," Nakano said. "They aren't bumpies."
"Bumpies?"
"You know...country mice. Bumpkins. The civvies who live out in the woods and are too dumb to move somewhere decent."
Hazō kept his face still. "Pick your reason," he said, looking down so that he could set aside the current sheet of paper and put another one in its place. "There's the moral reason: Civilians, no matter where they live, are people too. It's so easy for us to make their lives better, so why aren't we doing it? There's the economic reason: Give civilians better health, better infrastructure, more safety, and they can focus on things other than survival. They start growing more food, making more money and more stuff, which means lower food prices and more stuff for us to buy. Everyone is better off. Then there's the Will of Fire reason: More civilians in the Land of Fire living long enough to raise kids means more people in the Land of Fire. More people means more ninja, meaning that everyone is safer. Sure, we're the strongest country in the world, but if we want to stay that way then we need to make sure that we have the largest ninja force. You think that Cloud and Rock aren't going to be sending people to take our stuff when our economy starts taking off and theirs is still stuck in the pits?"
All four of the clanless ninja were looking at him as though he'd grown a second head.
"You this much?"
Hazō frowned. "This sentence no verb."
"Are. You. Like. This. Very. Often?" Genda ground out. "Fancy brain, pictures of sugar and spice?"
Hazō shrugged. "Dunno. To me this stuff is just obvious. I don't know why it isn't obvious to everyone."
Jinno snorted. "Some of us figure we aren't going to make it more than a couple more years so what's the point? Shoot, I'm sixteen. That's old for a mudfoot genin on a combat squad."
Hazō's head came up fast. "I don't like that word. You shouldn't use it. Especially not for yourself."
"What, 'mudfoot'?" Jinno snorted. "It's what you clan kids think of us, right? Civvie-borns always have mud on their feet because they aren't good enough to water-walk."
Hazō's eyes narrowed. He set aside his lap desk and the half-finished storage seal he'd been working on and held the finished one out to Jinno along with a twig from the ground. "Store this."
Jinno took the seal in confusion and then frowned. He studied it more closely. "It's not working."
"That's because it's not a seal, it's a blank." Hazō leaned over and touched the ink for a moment. "Try now."
Jinno glanced at the newly-infused seal. The twig vanished into storage space and reappeared a moment later.
"You want to make it more than a couple years longer? Come to games night, meet Kagome-sensei. Convince him that you want to learn sealing. Assuming you do, that is."
"Hang on," Sugiyama asked. The frizzy-haired boy had been silent through most of the conversation, watching and taking things in without needing to contribute. Now he was leaning forward, an intense look in his eyes. "You're offering to have your uncle teach us sealing?"
"Yeah...I mean, didn't I just say that?"
"No one teaches mudfeet sealing. Or jutsu hacking, or medical jutsu. I'm pretty sure it's not even legal."
"I said. I do not like. That. Word."
Sugiyama impatiently waved Hazō's words aside. "Fine, whatever. How are you going to get permission for us to learn sealing?"
Hazō shrugged. "I didn't even realize it was a thing," he admitted. "Like I said, me and my clan don't know squat about Leaf. Who would I talk to?"
All four genin exchanged looks. "I don't know," Nakano said. "Maybe the Hokage, maybe the Clan Council?"
"Be nice, Jitsuku," Nakano said. "Sealing and hacking are dangerous, everyone knows that. It's definitely something that should be licensed."
Hazō thought about it for a moment, eyes following the Iron-Nerve motion of his brush across the page. "I'll ask, see what I can find out. If we can make it work, cool. If not, the Clan Council's remit doesn't extend outside of Leaf, does it?"
Four helpless looks.
"Eh, fuck 'em. We'll figure it out. If you want to learn it, cool. You need to convince Kagome-sensei and then you need to make it through his training course. It's frustrating and yes, very dangerous, but he's a good teacher."
"Hm," Genda said, leaning back. "So very generous. Price?"
Hazō shrugged the shoulder that wasn't busy controlling a brush. "We can talk. If you could take over making explosives for the family that would be pretty cool."
"Explosives?" Sugiyama asked. "That doesn't sound like much. How fast do you use them up that you need four people making them for you?"
"You'd be surprised," Hazō said, infusing his current seal blank and handing it across to Genda. "Here, this is yours."
The girl took the page and looked at him suspiciously.
"I'm making one for each of you. No strings, no obligations. I noticed you're all carrying packs, and they look heavy. I'll also get you some explosives as soon as I have time, but it probably won't be more than one or two each." He winced. "Sorry. We gave all of ours to Jiraiya or I'd have more for you."
"You're just giving us seals?" Sugiyama asked. "Is this part of your recruitment pitch?"
Hazō shook his head. "No. I'm not giving them to you as a bribe, I'm giving them to you because it's safer that way. Safer for me, too. I'm not sure if you know why we're traveling just with chūnin, but I'm worried about ambush. You shouldn't be weighed down with something that could shift on your back and throw you off-balance. I want you guys safe and able to fight"—he grinned—"because then you'll be more likely to save my life if we get ambushed! Purely self-interest, I assure you." The other four chuckled. "As to the explosives...my family are all firm believers in peace through massive ordinance. Jiraiya, Kagome-sensei, and I are all sealsmiths, so the things don't cost more than ink and paper for us. Kagome-sensei yells at us kids if we aren't carrying at least three hundred explosive tags at all times."
"Three hundred?!"
"Hey, there isn't always time to stop and make more, you know? Back in the woods it was very comforting to have a crapton of the things on you. I've only had time to make half a dozen for me, Noburi, and Keiko, and I feel bloody naked."
Genda snorted. "We keep hanging out, Imma get tired of you say 'back in the woods', yeah?"
Hazō shrugged helplessly. "I had a misspent young adulthood." He went back to scribing the next storage seal, meanwhile nibbling on his toasted apple with his free hand.
XP AWARD: 12 (includes brevity bonus)
You will start traveling at dawn and arrive in Leaf around midday tomorrow. By default the current plan is still in effect, but you may feel free to vote changes or a new plan.
I'm sorry I didn't get through more of this, but I've been dragging my tail a bit and there's a long list of stuff that needs to happen before tomorrow. The plan was a lot of fun, and I'll look forward to seeing @Velorien's take on it.
Voting, if there is any, ends on Wednesday, May 1, 2019, at 12pm London time.
The woman was sitting in the Chair, the one that was always left open for those who were just now home from a really bad mission. It was in the corner, facing out into the room. The tables were arranged so that the person in the Chair could stand up easily and have space to fight. The civilian servers knew that when someone sat in the Chair you had one of the ninja take them a giant mug of mulled wine on the house and then you left them alone. If there were no other ninja in the house, you ran and got one, but you stayed the hell away from the person in the Chair.
The woman in the Chair was staring into space and shivering. That was a very bad sign, since there were big fires going in both fireplaces and the room was actually hot enough to make people peel off their outer layers as soon as they came through the door. (The owner hated the cold, saying that it made her knees ache.)
"Minori? Are you okay?"
The words were soft, calming, yet they went through Minori like a lightning bolt, sending her leaping to her feet, her arms suddenly sheathed in twisting flames... then she stumbled back as if frightened of her own fire. She caught herself on the nearest table, the flames vanishing.
"Whoa, whoa! It's just me, Amane! It's okay, you're safe."
Minori blinked back to awareness. "Amane?"
"It's me," the other woman said, coming forward one step at a time with her hands raised to show them empty of anything except two mugs. "You're looking pretty shook. Want to tell me about it?" She placed one of the mugs on a table where Minori could reach it, then settled slowly into a chair a non-threatening distance away but close enough to talk.
"I... I don't.... "
"I was on duty in the Tower when Lady Tsunade came back," Amane said quietly. "I heard some of it. She sent me to find you, said to make sure you were okay and to get you to talk."
"Lady Tsunade?"
"Yes. She's in the Tower. She's in no shape, but she insisted on telling people what to do until she passed out. Now whenever she's awake, she's doing the same to the medic-nin treating her."
"...Oh." She looked around vaguely, seeming fuzzily surprised to find a clay mug of hot wine between her hands. She took a sip and fell silent again.
"She said it would help to talk."
Minori blinked a few times, then looked over. "Amane?" She looked around. "The Tag."
"Yes. You're at the Soggy Tag. I went to find you at the hospital, but the medics said that you walked out before they could do more than check for broken bones."
"...Yeah. Yeah, I did." She nodded, eyes focusing. "I couldn't... I couldn't be there. They would have sedated me, made me sleep."
"What happened?"
She took a larger pull on her wine and swallowed convulsively. "It was bad. Really, really bad. We were all in Mist, after the tournament. The Gōketsu girl won and Lord Jiraiya was over the moon. We were going to be going home soon. Maybe tomorrow, maybe the next day; plans were still a little fuzzy because it depended on how long it took Lord Jiraiya to nail down some negotiations. Then this Sand ninja showed up and said that Gaara of the Desert had been taken by Akatsuki. Just like Naruto and, as it turned out, every other jinchūriki. Next thing you know, there's a giant strike force leaving for Nagi Island. All five Kage, Captain Kakashi, Gai, every Leaf jōnin we had with us and all of the senior chūnin as well. A big assault group from Sand, plus most of the other ninja who had been accompanying the Kazekage, Raikage, and Tsuchikage."
Her face crumpled up and tears started gathering. She sniffed, angrily scrubbing the tears away on the back of her arm. "Did you know that Orochimaru was here, in Leaf?"
"What?!"
Minori nodded. "Yeah. Apparently he came in to give Lord Jiraiya the final pieces of the puzzle about what Akatsuki was doing and where. We weren't told the details, just that he would be fighting alongside us."
"No way. No way could he be forgiven."
She shrugged, not looking up from her endlessly fascinating mug. "I don't know if he was forgiven, but he was there. Good thing too. It was so incredibly close. If any of them hadn't been there, we would have lost." She smiled, weak and watery. "The Sannin. The Three, fighting together again. It was like being in a fairy tale. They actually arrived separately, Orochimaru with a handful of ANBU and Lady Tsunade with the main force about an hour later. He and Lord Jiraiya were in the war room studying maps when Lady Tsunade came in. She looked over and saw them, paused for just a second, and then walked over and said 'Oro'. And he said 'Tsunade'. And that was it. They worked together like nothing had happened."
"Did he make it?" Amane asked softly, not sure which answer she wanted to hear.
Minori shook her head. "No." She fell silent for several seconds, then looked over. "The other Kage and...well, everyone, were on skywalkers, dealing with Akatsuki's fliers. Me, Gai, Captain Kakashi, Lords Nara, Yamanaka, and Akimichi, and some other jōnin and ANBU were the ground assault, supporting the Three. You should have seen them; it was incredible. They moved around the battlefield like they were one person, and everyone they touched just...died."
-o-
It was a perfect, impenetrable cocoon of writhing black snakes. Scales like armour and a discordant hissing that reached for Minori's primal survival instinct, which begged her to start running and never stop. If there had ever been anyone inside that demonic shell, by now they would at best have suffocated and been crushed to death.
A huge, three-bladed scythe burst out of the cocoon, slashing Orochimaru across the chest before travelling gleefully back to its master. The cocoon fell apart as half of Orochimaru's torso fell to the ground, left shoulder down to right hip.
"Take that, you creepy unnatural motherfucker!" Hidan crowed triumphantly, completely ignoring his broken neck and fang punctures deep enough to pierce his vital organs ten times over. He turned to look for a new target.
Orochimaru's remains were still on their feet. The wound across Orochimaru's side pulsed like a beating heart, even though his real heart was lying on the ground. Then a new half pulled its way out of the wound, covered in goo like an insect emerging from a chrysalis. Apart from the torn uniform, it was like he'd never been hurt at all.
"Lord Jashin, this is not a time to be screwing with me," Hidan muttered.
Orochimaru raised his arms in a leisurely motion, and an endless stream of snakes began to pour out in Hidan's direction, one from his remaining sleeve and one… one transmuted from his new flesh, fingers detaching and regrowing faster than the eye could see, and oily black veins erupting from his forearms. The snakes flew at Hidan like projectiles, then, upon missing, fell to the ground and went for his legs.
But this time Hidan was ready. He kept dodging and leaping and blocking like a man possessed, which he possibly was, until the snake flow suddenly finally ceased without having touched him once.
"Hey, are you human?" Hidan asked with apparent concern. "'cause I need to know if you count towards my human sacrifice quota for the day."
Orochimaru shrugged apathetically. "Humanity is overrated."
"Tell me about it. Guess I'll just stick to the First Commandment: Kill them all and let Lord Jashin sort them out."
As Orochimaru rapid-fired hand seals that Minori recognised to be for the Summoning Technique, Hidan raised his scythe to his lips and licked Orochimaru's blood off the blade.
A second of wide-eyed confusion later, he went into a dramatic series of convulsions, finally collapsing with his limbs splayed out.
Orochimaru walked up to the fallen Hidan and stuck a "For further research" tag on his forehead. Then he opened his mouth impossibly wide, and swallowed him whole.
-o-
Captain Kakashi was a single blue line moving across the battlefield, fast enough that you could only tell where he was from the afterimages. He never slowed, and every time the line changed direction, it left a corpse behind.
When he came to a sudden halt, Minori's heart stopped.
A wall of grey sand had blocked his unblockable attack. In a flash, the Lightning chakra poured out of Captain Kakashi's hand and along a spike of sand, disappearing into the ground.
Before Captain Kakashi could recover, a long blade emerged from his chest. Then another.
In the blink of an eye, he was surrounded by a horde of puppets with Sasori's mark on their backs. It took four of them to hold back Captain Kakashi's arms so he couldn't use ninjutsu. Four more to immobilise his legs as he struggled. They didn't bother covering his Sharingan eye.
Then more blades came. The puppets numbered in the dozens, and none of them took any chances.
Minori looked away. She couldn't watch.
"DYNAMIC ENTRY!"
Two seconds later, Captain Kakashi's portion of the battlefield was empty. Not even the tiniest fragments of wood remained.
Maito Gai leaned over Captain Kakashi.
"What do you think you're doing lying down on the job, Kakashi?" Gai demanded. "You can't keep lazing around if you ever want to be youthful enough to beat me! Now get up! I'll even let you off the thousand push-up forfeit this time. Just… please… get up…"
It was then that Minori noticed how red Gai's skin was. How brightly his eyes were glowing. How the left side of his body was starting to fade away like smoke.
Gai knelt next to Kakashi's body.
"I guess… it's up to the next generation… now. Even if we fall… the Spirit of Youth is forever…"
-o-
The four-winged giant bird, with concentric circles in its eyes, followed the Mizukage relentlessly, its superior aerial view preventing concealment even as its speed prevented escape. The Mizukage fled, her motions barely smooth enough to hide a sense of desperation at attending a battle where she was hopelessly outclassed.
As she twisted around to confirm the summon beast's location, the earth shook with someone else's ninjutsu, and she stumbled and tripped on a rock. The sight of the Mizukage on her backside would have been comical if it didn't spell her impending doom.
Recognising the opening, the bird opened its beak as it swooped down for the kill.
At the last moment, the Mizukage rolled sideways and kicked the creature in the throat with both legs. The impact sent it flying upwards to smash into an overhang, which then proceeded to collapse on it as the Mizukage used the momentum of the kick to propel herself out of the way.
A few seconds later, the Mizukage emerged from the summon mist, adjusting her hair as she crested the mound of rubble.
"A Kurosawa never loses control."
-o-
The Tsuchikage zoomed across the battlefield with no skywalkers or mounts, flying like he'd been born to the sky. Whenever he dipped near the ground, walls of stone erupted to protect his allies, and narrow chasms crisscrossed the ground under enemy feet with pinpoint precision. Whenever he rose higher, Akatsuki's flyers scrambled to seek easier prey.
A series of explosions rang out around him in mid-air as if he'd stumbled into the middle of a trap array.
"Hundred years old and you still fall for the oldest trick in the book, grandpa?" Deidara the dragonrider sneered. "Nothing more unsightly than a decaying old man clinging to his half-life decades after he could have gone out in a blaze of glory."
A raging storm erupted through the air, an explosive bombardment so intense Minori could barely track the bombs, much less imagine dodging them.
The Tsuchikage didn't dodge. He put his hands together and bomb after bomb simply vanished, removed from existence in obedience to his will.
"I take it all back," Deidara said with awe. "I think I've just discovered abstractionism."
Minori didn't hear a sound, but the Tsuchikage spun around, his ability still active, to disintegrate some new attack. A second later, he plummeted to the ground, wreathed in black fire.
Deidara watched the immolation with tears in his eyes.
-o-
Blade met hand, over and over. Zabuza's swordsmanship just didn't seem to matter against this man, who blocked his attacks bare-handed and refused to take any damage. It was tiresome.
"Non-ablative armour," Zabuza grunted. "Haven't seen that in a while."
Just as one of Kakuzu's hands swept the Throat Cleaver aside, his other lashed out, not punching, but extending on a series of threads as if Kakuzu were a puppet controlled by some higher power. The hand tried to close itself around Zabuza's throat. Not only tiresome, but honestly, boring. After what he'd gone through in Snow...
Zabuza twisted around, spinning like a tornado. The hand, too slow to disengage, was ripped from Kakuzu's arm and thrown far into the distance by his angular momentum.
Kakuzu looked nonplussed. "It'll take me hours to find that."
"Not my problem. Hurry up and use your next trick."
"Remember it in your dying moments: you asked for this, hunter-nin."
Kakuzu doubled over. On his back, instead of something rational like deflecting plate, were four masks, each more pretentious than the last.
"Four hearts to your none, Momochi Zabuza."
The masks detached, and before Zabuza's slightly impressed eyes, each turned into an elemental chakra beast that rose into the air.
Zabuza considered Kakuzu and the masks.
"First things first," he said. "Non-ablative armour makes people overconfident."
Before Kakuzu could react, Zabuza kicked him in the stomach with tremendous force, sending him slamming into the mountainside. Kakuzu's impenetrable skin didn't protect him against the other effects of blunt impact.
"Second," Zabuza said as he pulled his hands back out of his holsters, "never give your opponent time to prepare."
Kakuzu could, and did, survive the monsoon of explosive tags without a scratch on him. He did less well when half the mountain collapsed on top of him.
"Third, nobody thinks to guard against suffocation."
Then he turned to face the four chakra beasts as they rose high in the air and began gathering chakra. He set his stance.
One of the things that Zabuza had earned over twenty years of hunting powerful ninja was a nigh-infallible ability to gauge the odds.
"Damn," he said to no one in particular. "Now who's going to keep Yukino out of trouble?"
-o-
Orochimaru slithered towards his latest target, moving in a sinuous sideways pattern that kept him just out of the way of every enemy missile. The enemy berserker he'd chosen for his prey stood frozen, unable to look away from that predatory gaze.
It happened in an instant. A flash. A roar. The impact, not so far from Minori herself, felt surreal, as if it was bleeding over from another world. It took her seconds, dangerous seconds, to remember what she was doing and why.
But a few snakes had been thrown clear of the blast and, insanely, they began to crawl towards each other as if trying to reassemble in the middle of the crater.
Minori felt a rush of hope. The man might have been a legendary, hated traitor, but she'd seen him fight with everything he had to protect the village he'd turned his back on. If putting his life on the line in this bloodbath wasn't enough to earn redemption, what was?
Then the paper woman passed overhead, and an explosive tag landed with merciless accuracy on the head of each snake.
In the end, Orochimaru of the Three hadn't been immortal enough.
-o-
Somewhere on the edge of the battlefield, Uchiha Itachi and Kurenai Yūhi were having a simple staring contest.
-o-
Minori sagged.
"It was a damn nightmare. Enemies on all sides, just this blur of ninjutsu and fighting that went on and on and on so that I thought it would never end... and then Lord Jiraiya died."
"Oh, Sage's mercy," Amane whispered. "How?"
"Something distracted Lord Jiraiya...I don't know what, but whatever it was, it was enough. Hoshigaki Kisame, the Swordsman, came in from the side and got him in the thigh with that famous sword. Nasty wound, got the artery so blood was spraying. Lord Jiraiya didn't even look, he just punched a spearhand strike through Hoshigaki's throat." She stopped and shook her head. "I swear, I am not making this up. He punched through Hoshigaki's throat, grabbed his spine and turned his hand. Hoshigaki's neck snapped clean and his head flopped over. Lord Jiraiya dropped him, pulled the sword out of his leg and threw it at Uchiha Itachi. It punched through four clones without slowing down, and I thought it would get him, but then Konan was there. She formed herself into a dome over Uchiha and the sword bounced off. She separated again and came at Lord Jiraiya as a million pieces of paper, slicing and cutting at him. There were too many different pieces of paper to block and he was being driven back. I tried to get to him, but the dragonrider went overhead and my entire section of the battle was exploding. I got thrown clear, but I was out of chakra and I couldn't just wade back in.
"Lady Tsunade turned to help Lord Jiraiya. He was shouting, begging the paper woman to stop, but she just kept coming. He was in a bad way, bleeding out from the leg wound, and slowing down. Then he grinned with teeth and yelled 'Gōketsu Clan Technique: Kagome's Bliss!' and absolutely everything blew up. There was a massive fireball, bigger than anything I've ever seen. When it cleared, Lord Jiraiya's charred body was on the ground with a huge circle of ash around him, and a few tiny scraps of half-burned paper drifting down. And then Lady Tsunade went berserk, and...."
Her voice broke and she curled forward, hiding her face in her hands as barely-controlled sobs wracked her body.
Very carefully, Amane slid her chair closer so that she could rub her friend's back while she cried. It was the only solace she could offer against a world given over to nightmares.
-o-
One final memory, the biggest drop of water in the chaotic whirlpool that was her mind.
It was the mastermind. The man responsible for everything. The monster who'd killed or ordered the deaths of dozens of the best ninja the Elemental Nations had to offer, and who, according to Orochimaru, was now getting ready to unleash a power great enough to destroy the world.
He could have been her little brother.
Young, with a mop of untidy red hair. Thin, like he hadn't been eating enough. Weird Bloodline eyes looking at her like he could see her soul. They were filled with sorrow, and that suddenly made her want to stop waiting for orders and just murder the bastard. What right did he have to feel pain after everything he'd done?
"It's over, then," he said in a calm, melancholy tone. "None of us ever had any illusions."
Lady Tsunade growled wordlessly. She stalked towards him. Wordlessly, she lifted her fist just slowly enough that the young man (everyone except Lord Hokage had called him Pain) could see his death coming.
She stopped at the very last second as Lord Hyūga interposed himself between them, staggering but defiant.
He'd assumed control of the Leaf forces the instant Lord Jiraiya's death was confirmed, with Lord Nara being already gone, and directed them masterfully… though by that point he had hardly anyone to direct. But the price of drawing the enemy's attention was that the enemy survivors homed in on him like they had on Lord Nara. He was a stronger combatant than Lord Nara, but still ended up the most injured of the allies—other than Lady Tsunade, who by then had stopped noticing wounds. And while the real heroes of the battle were standing tall in the face of their suffering, Minori had made it through without so much as a twisted ankle because she'd been blessed with the luck the other warriors deserved.
"Do you ever want to think before you act, woman?" Lord Hyūga snapped. "That man has enough chakra flowing through him to level this entire mountain. What do you think will happen if he loses control?"
Lord Akimichi rushed in and caught him before he fell, his bodily strength exhausted.
For the first time, Minori took in the whole scene. Pain was hovering, arms spread out in a crucifix position in the middle of a sphere of chakra so dense, the shimmering of the air left the back of the room a mirage. Beneath him lay a red-bearded man, mouth open in a silent scream, at the centre of an eye-watering sealing array. To the side, a great cluster of metal, in a shape so complex it could only be some kind of machine, wound its way up the wall like ivy.
"For what it's worth," Pain said softly, "we really did try to take the path of least suffering. We had the firepower to level villages. We had the knowledge to trigger a new world war." He looked pointedly between the clan heads and the Mizukage.
"Either would have made our work much easier."
Insight flared in Minori's mind like Lord Jiraiya's incredible final technique. Suddenly, she knew how Uzumaki Naruto had really been kidnapped. She knew why none of her friends had come back from their secret mission, and why the Third's hitherto concealed illness suddenly got so much worse that he wasn't even receiving visitors. She knew what Momochi Zabuza had been about to say.
She also knew that this was the kind of knowledge, or at least infallible logic, that got people dying tragically in a skirmish on some distant border.
"I don't expect you to forgive us. I don't even expect you to understand. But I would at least like to go down in your memories as a well-intentioned madman rather than a bloodthirsty one."
"Well-intentioned?" Tsunade spat. "What, you want to be patted on the back for being less of a murderer than you could be?" She gestured around her, as if to indicate the entire world. "You think you have some noble ideal that justifies killing Jiraiya? Killing Oro? Killing everyone else who had the guts to stand against you?"
"Yes," Pain said simply.
"Why?"
The question, more like a whimper, broke the hollow silence. Everyone turned to stare at Minori, and she suddenly realised that it was hers.
"Because ever since the Sage's failure, we've been living in a broken world. Because after a thousand years of sacrifice, the Five are still sealed, and I was born with the power to subjugate the Nine. Above all, because I had true friends who, each for their own reasons, lent me their strength so that I could finish what my precursor started."
"A broken world?" Lord Hyūga demanded incredulously. "The Sage of Six Paths gave us civilisation. He created order. He chose the best of mankind and granted them the power and wisdom they needed to guide the rest! He saved us from anarchy!"
"He gave us ninjutsu," Pain said calmly. "The power for one ninja to kill a dozen with the wave of a hand. A hundred civilians. If I wanted to, right now I could kill thousands of them before sunset. Does it make you happy that you have that power? Does it make you happy that of the countless men and women in the world, only a handful dare to share your joy? Only a handful dare to to support you in your sorrow? Does it make you happy that your people obey you only because the alternative is worse?"
"Medical ninjutsu," Lady Tsunade said. "Try and argue that one away, you self-righteous asshole."
Pain nodded. He was either unable or unwilling to move any more of his body. Minori was reluctantly impressed that he was able to hold a conversation at all while carrying on with his unimaginably complex ritual.
"The best thing that ever happened to this world," he agreed. "Now tell me, Lady Senju, how many of the people medical ninjutsu saves would not need saving if they hadn't gone to war in the first place? How many more doctors would you have taught if we were all just civilians, and the people with the mental skills necessary to be a doctor weren't made combat ninjutsu users? How much more research would you all have conducted together?"
Lady Tsunade gritted her teeth.
"Chakra beasts," Hōzuki, the Mist swordsman, said dismissively. "End of discussion, can we get on with figuring out how to kill him now?"
"Chakra beasts," Pain repeated. "'Chakra' being the operative word. But you're right—I'm not going to float here and argue with you. I doubt it would buy me enough time.
"You've killed my friends. We've killed yours. I think trying to make more of it than that would be an insult to their conviction. But now we're at an impasse. If you kill me, the ritual is aborted partway. There will be no survivors, and I hope you've evacuated the island before coming here. If you don't kill me, the ritual will be completed and I will bring about world peace."
"That's right,"Hōzuki said. "We'll just bank on some kid using a cobbled-together ritual to reshape the entire world in exactly the right way when the Sage of Six Paths himself couldn't manage it. Whatcha reckon, Lady Mizukage, can we go home now?"
"There is a time and place for humour, Hōzuki," the Mizukage said coolly. "In your case, it is never and nowhere. Now be silent."
Hōzuki clicked his tongue disrespectfully, but obeyed.
"Jiraiya of the Three is dead," Pain said. "So is Sasori. We killed Orochimaru some time ago. I doubt there's any ninja left alive who can decipher and undo this seal in time."
"Oro was here until the end," Lady Tsunade growled. "He died a hero."
For the first time, Pain flinched in surprise.
"He really was the best of us," he said thoughtfully after a second. "He had the resolve to leave. The resourcefulness to survive our assault. The courage to challenge what he knew were impossible odds. Perhaps if he'd fought with us rather than against us…"
"Enough prattle," Lord Hyūga said. "Some of us need urgent medical attention. What do you want?"
"The obvious wish would be to let me finish the ritual," Pain said. "Once our hearts are united, war will not merely cease. The very idea will become laughable. We will look back on this dark age with the horror it deserves."
"Unacceptable," Lord Hyūga said immediately, without seeking anyone else's opinion. "Conflict is a necessary part of human nature. Without conflict, those worthy to lead cannot prove themselves, and society collapses into majority rule. Do you honestly believe that the peasant in the field has the same right to rule as the man who has proven his will and his power by overcoming all challengers? That the extraordinary Bloodline Limit flowing through your veins is of equal value to the blood of some common-born taken from the street? Deny the conflict that sifts the gold from the dross, and you reduce humanity to a foul homogeneous mass."
The others in the cave stared. That may have been the first time they'd heard Lord Hyūga justify his famously elitist views. Perhaps Pain's speech-making was infectious.
"Well, he's not wrong," Inuzuka said after a few awkward seconds. "I mean, you said it yourself, hovering man. The most obvious way that ninja and civilians are different is that we can kill them just by poking them hard enough. If we don't remind them of that every once in a while, they might start getting ideas above their station, and that's bad for everyone."
"You've lived down to my expectations, Hyūga Hiashi," Pain said. "Anyone else?"
No one said anything, which was answer enough. You couldn't trust a mass-murdering lunatic with the fate of the world, even if you wanted what he was offering. Which Minori did. She'd lost most of the people she loved to war, some of them today.
"It comes down to this after all." Pain sighed. Some part of him relaxed that Minori hadn't even realised was tense. "You can't stop the ritual. You lack the skill. It took all of us to develop, and that combination of specialists will never be seen again."
"We can," Minori found herself saying, with that tongue that refused to consult the rest of her. "Everyone else can get to safety, and then one person can kill him and take the consequences. I'm the least valuable person here, so…"
Of all the gazes that pierced her just then, Pain's was the most intense.
"You really mean that, don't you?" he asked.
"I…" Minori's voice was trembling now that she understood what she was saying. "I think if it has to be somebody, it should be me." The one who didn't deserve to survive while everyone else died. She'd hidden in the shadows, reiterating her lack of power like a mantra, while her allies were dying around her one by one. Why couldn't it have been Usamatsu who survived? Or Mana, or Shishi or Kuga? What had she done to deserve to live while they died?
"I'm willing to offer a compromise," Pain said suddenly. "Two hours to shut down the ritual safely."
"And what do you want?" Lady Tsunade demanded. "Because you can promise us the moon, but you ain't walking out of here alive."
Lord Hyūga opened his mouth. Minori couldn't see the expression on Lady Tsunade's face from where she was, but Lord Hyūga closed his mouth instantly.
"Freedom for my friends," Pain said.
"Your friends are dead," Lord Akimichi finally spoke up. "I'm sure you're lucid enough to know that."
"Freedom for my friends," Pain repeated. "You'll let them go, and you won't fight any of them unless they fight you first."
"No," Lady Tsunade said flatly. "Even if you can bring them back, which is bullshit, they don't get to walk away after what they've done."
"You are injured and low on chakra," Pain replied with the uninvolved air of one checking off boxes. "Factoring in Lady Senju's wounds, I am presently the strongest shinobi alive. I could abort the ritual right now and destroy this island. I could shut down this ritual safely, destroy you all before you could confirm whether it was safe to attack me, and try to restart the ritual somewhere else. Or after destroying you, I could kill the jinchūriki since they are no longer any use to me, and use my powers to escape, leaving six Tailed Beasts to rampage across the Water Country."
He could abort the ritual at will. Minori's life still wasn't worth anything even if she tried to sacrifice it.
"Freedom for my friends, in exchange for my life. I have the ninjutsu."
There was silence for a long time.
"How do you know we won't just attack them once you're dead?" Asuma asked.
"With the greatest possible respect," Pain said, "you and what army?"
"How do you know they won't just attack us once you're dead?"
"I will tell them not to."
Ten incredulous stares.
"I have gathered some of the most brutal, remorseless killers the world has ever known, and persuaded them to set aside their differences and follow me in pursuit of a single pacifist goal. Everything leading up to this moment has been possible only because of their loyalty and trust in me. Didn't you wonder why not one of them tried to escape in the face of the most powerful alliance in human history?
"Besides, with both your chakra and theirs depleted, there would be massive casualties. Will the few survivors on either side throw away their lives in the name of revenge?
"I may be alone, but Akatsuki's mission statement remains unchanged: let me save lives or you will die."
-o-
The glow around the young man was faint now as he stood at the cave entrance looking down at the battlefield.
"How many more times before we're satisfied?" he whispered.
The survivors stood around him, each ready to strike the second he reneged on their deal. He'd already shown them, very slowly, the hand seals he was going to use.
Pain didn't raise his voice the way ninjutsu users usually did. It was even, so very even.
"Outer Path: Samsara of Heavenly Life Technique."
The abomination rising from the ground was every bit as horrific as he'd described. She didn't doubt for a second that it was a demon king from the Naraka Path, something that could only be summoned by a man who was an abomination himself. She needed only to look into its deep, baleful eyes, which were completely identical to Pain's.
The demon's maw opened wide, as if to consume every corpse on the battlefield in a single desecrating bite. But instead, streams of beautiful green light, like dancing kami who'd accidentally wandered into hell, poured out of its mouth and unerringly towards corpses (or pieces of corpses) wearing black cloaks with red clouds. Before her eyes, bones reattached themselves, were covered in flowing flesh, and finally tightly in skin. Fragments of human being drifted towards a single central point and reassembled. Some had to claw themselves out into the open world while the light briefly sustained them. One man stood up, gazing in bewilderment at his hands as if seeing them for the first time.
"It's over," Pain said loudly but clearly. "Thank you for staying by my side, and for devoting yourselves to a madman's dream. If I can make just one more selfish request of you, my friends… find your own ways to keep that dream alive. Even if there are no shortcuts to world peace, humanity can still do it the hard way."
With that, he fell to his knees, and was dead before he hit the ground.
Down below, seven figures left in silence.
-o-
Elsewhere, while Amane is comforting Minori…
He kept stumbling. His body was still in two minds whether to obey him, but on the other hand, he was alive. He walked to the Mizukage's right, occasionally grabbing her shoulder when he felt himself losing his balance. Ancestors be praised that the water walking part was over. With his chakra in the state it was, there were times when she'd practically had to carry him.
There was only one other. To the Mizukage's left, a swordsman grinning like a lunatic, with what looked incongruously like a thousand paper cuts across his chest. Hōzuki… Suigetsu? No, Mangetsu. He couldn't remember why he knew. His past was still a shattered kaleidoscope, and his future a terrifying blank, as if stepping into it would make him fall upwards into the sky.
It was hard enough to hold on to the present, but he might be able to do it with the Mizukage by his side.
She was everything he could have hoped for from []'s successor. She'd been there as they all stirred to dazed, troubled consciousness, as they recognised ancient enemies, but also felt the kinship of survivors. She'd explained things to those still confused, and she reassured them that they were safe now, and would soon return to their homes under truce. She even defended them when Hyūga Hiashi insisted that they were too dangerous to be allowed to roam free.
Then she'd taken them to the battlefield, and showed them the price of their salvation. It was carnage far beyond anything he's ever seen. So many dead… all for his sake? The Mizukage gave a gentle smile, and told them that they shouldn't feel guilty, but that they should remember this moment when the time came for them to decide. Then she offered him amnesty for crimes he must have committed, and the chance to return to Mist to be its champion in its hour of need. With [] gone, and the Fifth being the kind of woman she was, he dared to hope that this new life would be better than the one he must have left behind years ago.
-o-
The gates of Mist. He couldn't remember them, but he could recognise them. They felt like the home he'd come home to after every mission, except apparently the last. But the yard beyond them… had it always been so full?
Standing with the Mizukage and Hōzuki, he stared at a crowd of dozens of ninja, wearing uniforms of every department, ages ranging from late teens to children barely out of the Academy. Off to the left, a veritable army of medic-nin stood ready with stretchers and bandages, but they weren't moving yet.
In the centre, there was a spearhead of three people, two men, and a woman in front. For some reason, despite now being a fellow Mist shinobi, he felt like he shouldn't turn his back to her.
The woman looked them over briefly as if counting. Then she took a small step forward.
"Lādy Mizukage, the Alliance for Mist's Illumination welcomes you back!"
Every single one of the dozens of people bowed in unison.
The Mizukage's face went completely blank.
"The Alliance for Mist's Illumination?" she asked neutrally.
The woman raised her voice slightly.
"We are your future jōnin. We are the future parents of your chūnin and genin. Right now, when the village needs us the most, we are the light breaking through the mist and illuminating the way to your new, liberal regime."
"Mori," the Mizukage said wearily. "How long?"
Mori beamed. "If you mean the concept, that was when I was seven and Grandpa Ryūgamine said each child had the potential to become either a wonder or a horror. I took it as an optimisation challenge. If you mean the official inauguration, that was three hours ago. They say that in both love and war, timing is everything."
"Is that so," the Mizukage said flatly. "And what are your demands?"
Mori took another step forward.
"The Alliance for Mist's Illumination doesn't make demands, Lady Kurosawa. We all feel a deep loyalty to the office of the Mizukage, and we will do whatever it takes to support a leader who does only what is best for our village.
"All we want…"
Mori's innocent smile nearly plunged him back into the nightmares.
"…is for you to do the AMI a favour."
-o-
A list of survivors, as eventually given by Minori:
Of Hidden Leaf:
Tsunade of the Three
Hyūga Hiashi, head of the Hyūga Clan
Sarutobi Asuma, head of the Sarutobi Clan
Akimichi Chōza, head of the Akimichi Clan
Inuzuka Gaku, jōnin of the Inuzuka Clan
Kurenai Yūhi, jōnin
Their coordination was terrible; they were coming from 11 and 1 instead of getting a proper 9-3 split the way they would have if they were competent warriors trained in working together instead of insane maniacs ready to die for their nonexistent god. Tsunade kicked the first one in the chest, her foot coming out through his spine so she was wearing him like a leg warmer. She stepped forward and down, putting all her weight on the front leg and chakra-adhering her foot to the ground. It gave her the solidity she needed to tear the top half of his body off and use it as an improvised missile to take out the second one. Her aim was a little off; she crushed his pelvis instead of his chest. Eh, whatever.
She absently snipped his head off with a heelstamp to the neck ("Always make sure!" Sensei had always said) and then turned to check on the boys. Jiraiya was cackling madly as he danced through another swarm of cultists and flicked their lives out with his Lightning Lash.
"Careful, Sunny!" he shouted. "You'll ruin your outfit!" She waited until he turned away, then punted the cultist's head at him; he dodged aside without looking, laughing harder. Good, Ma and Pa Toad were doing their jobs: Sitting on his shoulders, feeding him nature chakra, and watching behind him.
As though the world had heard her thoughts, some teenage brat with delusions of grandeur charged up and tried to chop Jiraiya in half from the side. Ma contemptuously slapped the blade aside and bit the guy's face off. Good.
Oro was hurling snakes so fast his hands seemed to blur. The small ones clearly had some sort of hemorrhagic venom, since anyone they bit suddenly gushed out of all their orifices and then fell over. The big ones were constrictors, capturing their targets for later disposal. Or, given that this was Oro, later study. He was using that creepy tongue jutsu of his, too. He'd gotten better at it; it was at least fifty feet long now, and his lingual dexterity had improved enough that he was using it to wield his sword with something vaguely in the generally approximate area of finesse. Then again, it wasn't hard to swing a sword around above your head in order to keep the fliers back.
It felt good to be beside them again. No matter what Oro had done, no matter how crazy Jiraiya made her—
A snake went past her at high speed; she glanced back to see what Oro had been targeting and then hurled herself up and away, eyes wide. Kisame had arrived.
Kisame had arrived, using those freaky-powerful water jutsu of his to pull a ten-foot wave across the battlefield. He was surfing the wave while standing on the back of a giant fucking shark, his sword in one hand and the shark's reins in the other.
A. Giant. Fucking. Shark?!
Oro had been smart enough to target the steed, not the rider; the shark twisted, spitting blood and convulsing. Kisame leaped clear, stuck the landing, and charged.
Tsunade smiled, hard and cold, and ran to meet him. This would be—
"Lady Tsunade?"
Tsunade shook herself awake. "Huh? Wha'?"
"You wanted to see me, sensei?"
Tsunade blinked away the last traces of sleep. "Ai. Good to see you again."
The younger woman smiled. "You as well, sensei. I wish it were under different circumstances."
"Yeah. Anyway, I want—"
"—to see the readiness reports for the hospital, and the state of training for all new residents?" She lifted the top third off a massive sheaf of papers and held it out.
"Hmph. Yes, and I'll also need—"
"—the pipeline for the new intake?" A quarter of the remaining stack got added to the first.
Tsunade eyed her former trainee with narrowed eyes. "Kon Ai, are you messing with me, young lady?"
"No, sensei. I would never do that." The impish grin of Tsunade's fourteen-year-old protégé still fit on the face of the forty-mumble senior doctor, which was nice to see.
"Just give me all of it," Tsunade grumbled, pushing herself up in the bed and absently strengthening the chakra sheaths that were keeping the hole in her lung closed and her left quadriceps tendon attached.
o-o-o-o
Just walking through the gates of Leaf was enough to reveal that Jiraiya had beaten them home.
The streets were buzzing, civilians everywhere stood with their heads together and shot glances at the ninja with a weird mix of fear and anger that left Team Uplift unconsciously moving under wilderness protocols: Hazō in the lead, Noburi trailing, Keiko in the middle with weapons drawn. She had even cleared her throat to catch her brothers' attention before signing Pangolin? Hazō had looked around for a moment, then shaken his head and turned for home.
A block later, Noburi paused. "Hold up," he muttered, stepping over to where a group of civilians were gathered together while one person read out a broadsheet.
"Excuse me," Noburi said. "What's the news?"
The man holding the paper looked up in surprise and took note of Noburi's ninja headband. "Oh! Uh, good morning, sir. The news..." He glanced down at the paper, then up again, looking nervous. "Uh..."
Noburi huffed his annoyance and snatched the paper from the man. Hazō crowded in to read over his brother's shoulder while Keiko stood back, her leg jittering with impatience and frustration at her own inability.
Hokage dies! Lord Third already dead! Leaf jōnin wiped out! Lady Senju near death!
It has been revealed that Lord Sarutobi Hiruzen, Third Hokage, The Professor of All Ninja Arts, the Grandmaster, the God of Shinobi, Savior of the Leaf, has died! Months ago! Worse, the Fifth Hokage also died, mere days ago!
Lord Third has not in fact been ill these last few months. He died in battle, destroying the enemies of the Leaf with his final breaths! This fact was wisely concealed by the Council of Ninja Clans so that our enemies would not know. The Gallant Jiraiya, leader of the Legendary Three, Toad Sage, and author of the well-loved Icha Icha series, had been inaugurated as Fifth Lord Hokage and had served honorably in that role since then...but now is dead!
A horrific evil drew the heroic forces of Leaf from their victory party in the evil City fo Mist! After completly dominating the Chūnin Exams as expected, the shining light of Leaf was celebrating...until word came of a horrific evil on Nagi Island! The ancient enemy of the Sage of Six Paths had returned at the head of a demony army and in alliance with the villians of Rock and Cloud! Lord Hokage and Lady Senju Tsunade were generous enough to permit Mist to send forces along in order to observe and hopefully learn from the skills of the Leaf ninja.
Teh evil was destroyed, the Sage's Foe sent back to the Void to sleep for another thousand years but every victory has its price, and Leaf has paid in blood. The Gallant Jiraiya, Fifth Lord Hokage, leader of the Legendary Three, Toad Sage, and author of the well-loved Icha Icha series, fell in battle against fifty-seven of the Enemy's demonic forces and the Kages of Cloud and Rock. His foes had no chance to celebarte, as he dragged them down into death's cold grip as he went Lady Senju Tsunade, Supreme Medic, Slug Princess, Wielder of the Strenght of One Hunderd, was gravely wounded and lies at death's door in Leaf General Hospital. (Donations and flowers welcome!) Captains Hatakae Kakshi and Maito Gai fell as well, loyal to the end. Other casualties were heavy; some have said that it was as many as two hundred of Leaf's greatest jōnin, but reports are still confused.
But no darkness is found without a trace of light. From the sacrifice of our mighty protectors, Leaf has recovered Uzumaki Naruto, son of the Fourth Hokage and jinchūriki of the Nine-Tailed Demon Fox!
The cowards of Mist, inferior fighters that they are, were completely wiped out. Their foul nation is defenseless, its survival dependent on the kindness of Leaf. Will the new HOkage—whoever that might be!—choose to wipe our ancient foes from the earth or show superhuman kindness and forebearance by allowing them to survive as servants of the Leaf until they finally accept the Will of Fire? (Assuming such fallen, twisted people are capable of it!)
Check back soon for the latest!
Noburi and Hazō shared a look, both of them going pale, before leaping for the rooftops and heading for Hokage's Tower at a dead sprint. Keiko followed in their wake, not bothering to ask what was going on. It clearly wasn't the time.
o-o-o-o
"What happened?!" Hazō demanded, bursting into the Mission Dispatch room so fast that the door bounced off the wall and would have smacked Noburi in the face if he hadn't stiff-armed it away.
Thankfully, the chūnin at the desk was the woman who had given them the steelback-hunting mission, not the skinwaste who had barely been able to read the mission list. She must have been answering questions from dozens of semi-panicked ninja, because the response was terse and very clearly well-rehearsed.
"The terrorist group Akatsuki was discovered on Nagi Island. It's unclear what they were doing there. Lord Jiraiya, Lady Senju, and a large fraction of the ANBU and jōnin forces were dispatched to stop them. A force from Mist—"
"We know all that! We were there. Survivors, tell us about the survivors."
The woman paused, blinking as the identities of her questioners finally clicked.
"I'm...I'm sorry. Lord Jiraiya fell. So did Captain Hatake, Captain Maito, and about a dozen others. The only survivors were Lady Senju, Lord Hyūga, Lord Akimichi, Captain Sarutobi, Yūhi Kurenai, Kazusa Minori, and Inuzuka Gaku."
"Is it true that Naruto was recovered?"
She frowned at Hazō's unconscious use of the familiar for Leaf's jinchūriki, but made no mention. "Yes, he was recovered. The last I heard, he was in the hospital along with Lady Senju and Lord Hyūga. I haven't heard about Uzumaki's prognosis, but word is that Lady Senju and Lord Hyūga are badly wounded but expected to recover. I don't know anything more than that."
The majority of the Gōketsu Clan exchanged serious glances.
"Do you have any details on exactly how he died?" Noburi asked. "Or who killed him?"
The woman's lips came together as though she tasted something sour. "It was a tag team. Hoshigaki Kisame stabbed him in the leg. Lord Jiraiya promptly killed him, but then he was attacked by one of his former students," she said, anger hidden under the words at the thought of a student betraying a teacher. "Konan. She uses paper jutsu. She can turn herself into a million individual sheets of paper and do things—create barrier constructs, transform into a bird form so she can fly, or give you the Death of a Thousand Cuts. That's what she did to Jiraiya."
Hazō nodded. "Konan. Good to know."
The desk chūnin laughed grimly. "Oh, don't worry about needing revenge. Lord Jiraiya did for her before he went."
All three Gōketsu chūnin brightened. "Oh?" Hazō asked.
"Yeah. Apparently, she was all around him, slicing and slicing. Took out the two summons on his shoulders, was nicking away at his face. He shouts 'Gōketsu Clan Technique: Kagome's Bliss!' and just abso-fucking-lutely everything gets blown to hell. There's this massive fireball—a hundred yards wide, someone said—and all of Konan's little paper-pieces are ash." Her face grew serious again. "He...he didn't survive, it though. I guess it's a suicide technique? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have laughed."
"It's fine," Noburi said, smiling and clearing his throat. "He was a joker. I think that he'd like the idea of us laughing about how he was still the biggest badass even when he was dying."
"Thank you," Hazō said. "I apologize for bursting in like we did."
The desk chūnin shook her head. "No problem. I'm very sorry for your loss; Lord Jiraiya was a great man. I had the honor of him guest lecturing my Academy class when I was a third year, talking about field tactics and threat analysis. He was inspiring, and his advice saved my life at least once."
Tears prickled at the back of Hazō's eyes, but he refused to give in to them. "He was. Thank you again. Excuse us." He turned and led the way out the door, Noburi and Keiko trailing behind him. None of them spoke until they were on the roof of a bakery across from the Tower, where the heat from the ovens had melted the snow off the slates.
"Holy fuck," Noburi said, half-sitting and half-collapsing, his face nearly as white as the snow that covered the ground. (But, fortunately, not the roof.) "Jiraiya's dead? How the fuck can Jiraiya be dead?"
"Akatsuki are powerful foes," Keiko said, her face and voice filled with the hollow cold of the Ice. "Tsunade is badly wounded, implying that she will be out of circulation for some time. Hyūga as well, thankfully."
"Because of course we couldn't be lucky enough for him to get whacked by whatever was strong enough to take Jiraiya out," Noburi grumbled. "Bastard."
Silence lingered as all three chūnin grappled with the enormity.
"Hazō."
Hazō shook himself out of the brain-locked blankness with which he had been staring towards the horizon. "What?"
"With Jiraiya gone and Mari-sensei probably still non-functional, you are the Clan Head," Keiko reminded him. "What are your orders?"
"Orders?! Keiko, you can't—" He stopped and took a breath. She was right. Jiraiya had given him the leadership, and there was precisely no time to wallow.
"Right," he said slowly, thinking. "Okay...Okay, right. We need to secure the clan. Same things we asked Jiraiya about before he left. We need to ensure that our income is solid. That our political alliances are strong. That we are defended against physical threats. It feels unlikely that Hyūga would actually send people to kill us, but I'm not ruling it out.
"Keiko, the Pangolin gold is still solid, right? Any problems likely to come up with that?"
"No. However, according to the letter of the law it could be argued that the money is mine and not the clan's directly. It comes from a source that I developed, with whom I did all the negotiations. Essentially, it could be viewed as me buying seals from the clan in order to resell them to the Pangolin. If so, then when my marriage to Shikamaru went through the money would follow me to the Nara."
Hazō rubbed his face to cover up his appalled expression. "Right. Okay, we need to deal with that. Figuring out how to make sure we stay solvent once you're married is your first job. Start with how to let us keep at least the majority of the Pangolin gold. If you get it or decide that there's no way, start investigating other options. If you need help working around the Ice, talk to me, Noburi, or anyone else you judge useful and safe." He waited for her silent acknowledgement, then nodded to himself, one finger tapping a rhythm on the knee of his uniform trousers as he thought. "Noburi, you suggested politics. We need to talk to Tsunade, Naruto, and the ISC contingent. Nara Shikaku and Yamanaka Inoichi are dead; who are the new Clan Heads? Who is taking Nara's place as Jōnin Commander, and what authority does that person have over us as chūnin?"
"Forget Jōnin Commander," Noburi said. "Who's the next Hokage? Because it sounds like it's either Tsunade or Hyūga, and I know which of those I would pick."
"She didn't want the job. Jiraiya said that she wouldn't even want to take the Senju seat on the Clan Council."
Noburi shrugged. "We'll just have to find a way to convince her. You remember what Jiraiya said: If Hyūga gets the hat, we're all dead."
"It is possible that he was overstating the case. Or, alternatively, that Hyūga's feud was with Jiraiya personally and he will care very little about us."
Hazō shook his head grimly. "A thousand ryō says we aren't that lucky. Either of you want to take that bet?"
"I do not."
"Hell no."
Hazō rubbed his face again, already feeling the weight of leadership that Jiraiya must has struggled under as long as they had known him. "We need Mari-sensei functional. I don't know if we can wait for her to come out of this funk."
"Good luck with that."
"Yeah." He absently turned his hand, symbolically casting away the topic. "Okay. Kagome-sensei. We need to get him briefed. We need Jiraiya's will and any seal notes he might have had so that Kagome-sensei can figure out the most valuable ones and start researching them. Whatever is there, it gives us more utility, more firepower, and more options for things to sell. Beyond that, we need to adopt Naruto if he's willing, although that might be tough without Jiraiya."
"Yeah, he doesn't know us from a hole in the ground. What do we have to offer?"
"An association with Jiraiya and the fulfillment of Jiraiya's desires as passed on through Lady Tsunade. A clan compound, substantial income and other resources. An extant, albeit small, clan, three of whom are close in age to himself and therefore well situated to serve as a peer group and support network while lacking the negative traits exhibited by so many of Leaf's other clans—Hyūga's xenophobia, the Inzuka's boorishness, and so on."
"I like that," Hazō said. "Good spin." He paused, thinking. "'Albeit small'," he murmured before falling silent again.
Noburi and Keiko waited semi-patiently until Noburi eventually broke. "Yes? Reality to Hazō?"
"'An extant yet small clan'," Hazō said. "That's one of our biggest problems. We're only a half dozen people, so we're sharply limited by manpower. Also, the three of us are young enough that we aren't going to command a lot of respect, but I'm more worried about the numbers right now. We need to expand our roster. What would you guys think about adopting some clanless ninja?"
Keiko cocked her head, one eyebrow rising.
"Who were you thinking of?" Noburi asked carefully.
"Well...what about all of them?"
"Excuse me? It sounded like you just said 'all of them.' Like, adopt every single clanless?"
"Sure. Why not? Bring them and their families into the clan. There's...what, a couple hundred clanless in Leaf? We've got the space. It would make us a major military power, provide alternate forms of revenue, and give us deep connections into the community."
"Are you insane?! You can't just adopt every single clanless!"
Hazō frowned. "Why not? When the Nara offered to adopt Keiko they didn't seem to worry about permits or approval of the Council. Seriously, what's stopping us?"
Noburi stared at him, jaw dropped. "Hazō...you would destroy the clan. I mean, sure, some clanless are fine, but most of them just don't have the skills. No, hear me out. Whether it's in the blood or just down to lesser access to training, it's still the case: Your average clanless ninja is significantly less skilled than your average clan ninja. We'd be bringing in a bunch of second- and third-raters and splitting our resources across all of them. You know that most clanless live in poverty, right? That's because they don't have the skills to take the well-paying missions, so they don't bring in enough mission income to cover their costs. We'd be losing money on all of them, meaning we'd go from a tiny wealthy clan to a huge poor clan."
"As well," Keiko said, "there is only a sixty-two percent complete literacy rate among clanless ninja, meaning we would need to spend money on remedial education, unless things are very different here than in Mist. In addition, clanless account for thirty-seven percent of the ninja forces in Mist, yet seventy-one percent of all disciplinary action. Clanless ninja are approximately the same percentage of the population here, meaning roughly five hundred individuals. I have not investigated the precise figures for crime or disciplinary hearings, but other facets of military service are essentially the same between the two forces, so I have no reason to think they are different in this respect. We may debate the causes if you wish, but the fact remains that clanless ninja are far less respectful of authority than clan ninja. You are a teenager who has been a chūnin for three days and official Clan Head for under an hour. Do you believe that a collection of clanless ninja with no ties to you, many of them older than you and senior to you on time-in-service, would follow your orders? Would you want to pay the reparations for the damage they would cause when engaging in tavern brawls, or the fines for when they disobey orders on a mission or fail one or more of the objectives?"
"Let's not even think about the reaction from the other clans," Noburi added. "Five hundred ninja is more than any other clan, by a long shot. The numbers would look like a threat, and their lack of quality would make us look stupid. Or naïve."
"There is a reason those people have not already been adopted, Hazō," Keiko said. "They are not worth the trouble because they would not generate positive value. Opening our doors to so many would effectively mean abandoning the concept of a clan—that is, a group of ninja bound together by blood or marriage, with a common set of values and a body of unique knowledge, skills, or bloodlines, who have a voice in the political structure of the village. Adopting all of the clanless ninja is an extremely poor idea. It will not have the positive elements that you are seeking and it will open us to enormous political, economic, and public-perception harm."
Hazō sighed. "Fine. What about just a few of them? Let's say Tenten, Lee, Akane, and Nakano's team."
"You want to adopt...Lee. Rock Lee. The one who prattles constantly about youth while offering homoerotic innuendo at the drop of a skintight green suit."
"Say what you want about him, he's a hell of a fighter. We could use the combat power."
"Absolutely not. Under no circumstances will I allow his adoption."
Hazō cocked his head, eyes locked with Keiko's as he considered her words.
"Keiko," he said at last. "Let's get this out of the way right now. Do you accept my authority as Clan Head or not? Because if you do then you can advise me, you can argue with me, but you cannot ever tell me that you 'will not allow' something I've proposed."
Keiko's eyes narrowed and the winter air grew even colder.
"Uh, Hazō," Noburi said nervously, only to cut himself off when Hazō raised a hand for silence.
No one spoke as Hazō stared his sister down.
"I need an answer, Keiko."
Keiko struggled with herself, lips pursed in anger, before finally nodding. "Fine."
"That's not an answer."
She glared at him. "Yes, I accept your authority as Clan Head. In future, I will not offer flat rejection of your proposals."
"Good." He smiled, nodding respect and thanks. "Still, you're not wrong that Lee would be a pain, so let's table that discussion for now. What about Tenten?"
Keiko paused, eyes flicking nervously to the side for a moment. "I have no objection."
"I'm glad to hear it. Do you think it's a good idea?"
"I...believe that Tenten's skills would be a positive contribution to the clan."
Hazō smiled. "Good to know. Noburi?"
Noburi glanced at Keiko, clearly struggling to keep a knowing smile off his own face. "Yeah, I think that would be a good move. As to Akane, it would be great to have her but I'd be worried how it would work between the two of you if you're Clan Head and she has to follow your orders."
"We'll manage," Hazō said. "She offers combat power, a sunny personality that will help us all stay balanced"—he carefully ignored Keiko's disgusted grunt—"and good advice."
"And," Keiko said grudgingly, "her family has a successful business that can likely grow given additional funding, thereby giving the Gōketsu an alternative income stream and connections to the civilian economy and rumor mill."
"Good point. Thanks, Keiko." Hazō looked between his siblings to see if there was anything else, then nodded. "Moving on, what do you two think about Nakano and his team?"
Noburi looked at Keiko; both of them shrugged.
"No objections, I guess. I don't really know much about them, but that guy...Genda? He seemed pretty hostile to us at games night, but he handled it. Might be an issue, might not. We'd want to spin it carefully so it doesn't look like the rich clan kids offering charity." He paused to think about it. "Tenten, Akane, and the three kids from Nakano's squad. Five. That doubles the size of the clan. That's pushing it a little—it would be better if we outnumbered them so that they were motivated to integrate. We can probably make it work if you insist, although we definitely shouldn't go beyond that or adopt any more for a good long while. Also, I agree that Tenten and Akane are top picks, but we might want to think about whether Nakano and his team are the right ones. No reason to choose them just because we know them. If we need to bring clanless in then we want to get the absolute best that we can find."
Hazō nodded. "Good point. That's your job, then. Go to the Tower and figure out who you need to sweet talk in order to find us a top squad of clanless ninja. Take into account their combat skills, utility jutsu, disciplinary history, and anything else you think is relevant."
"As well as their economic profile. The ideal candidates would be poor enough that our offer will be maximally desirable, but have families with some form of revenue that could be grown with investment, as is the case for the Ishihara. Avoid anyone with a history of serious disease in the family. As few as we are and as difficult as the next few months will be, we cannot afford sickness."
"Makes sense." Hazō thought for a moment longer, then stood up and absently brushed off the seat of his pants. "Let's get home. We need to talk to Kagome-sensei and Mari-sensei about what's been happening." He smiled. "And then I want to go find Akane and give her the invitation."
o-o-o-o
"Kagome-sensei! Mari-sensei! We're home!"
By now, the younger generation of the Gōketsu knew what to expect. Noburi had already closed the door before Fifi arrived.
o-o-o-o
Minutes later, the newly-frocked chūnin were sitting at the kitchen table with Kagome-sensei. Fifi had been very disgruntled about the door being closed and her subsequent inability to go somewhere that the thumbbeasts did not want her to go. Regardless, she had been mollified by a large bowl of cream and an appropriate amount of petting from Kagome-sensei. The noise she was emitting was a bit too deep and echoey to be considered a purr, but that was the closest Hazō could think of.
"Keiko, Noburi, could you please brief Kagome-sensei on everything? I'm going to see if I can roust Mari-sensei and get her to join us."
Kagome looked sourly at the stairs. "Good luck. She's been crying ever since the news about Jiraiya got here." He sniffed in pretended disapproval. "Stupid Jiraiya. Getting himself killed like that without even thinking what it would do to Mari. Stinker."
Hazō chuckled. "I doubt he did it on purpose. I'll be right back." He started for the stairs, then paused and turned back.
"Kagome-sensei, has anyone told you exactly how Jiraiya died?"
Kagome-sensei was busy stabbing his fork angrily into his mushroom and pepper risotto. "No, why?"
"He was fighting a paper user, and he knew he was going to lose, so he used a suicide technique to take her with him. He called it 'Gōketsu Clan Technique: Kagome's Bliss'."
Kagome-sensei's head jerked up and his mouth gaped. "He...he called it what?"
"Gōketsu Clan Technique: Kagome's Bliss. It apparently involved absolutely enormous explosions and a huge fireball."
Kagome-sensei started to cry.
Hazō blinked in shock, then hurried to hug his teacher.
"Stupid stinker," Kagome-sensei mumbled, choking on the words. "Stupid stinking Jiraiya. What kind of giant...stupidhead gets himself killed like that?!"
Hazō's eyes were starting to leak too. He hugged tighter, forcing himself to blink the water away. The Iron Nerve kept his breathing regular and even, preventing the incipient sobs from racking through him.
"I know," he murmured.
Noburi and Keiko sat, silent and uncomfortable, as the two sealsmiths processed the loss of their senior.
"Go," Kagome-sensei said at last, pushing Hazō away. "Go get Mari. We'll need her." He swiped the tears from his eyes and offered Noburi and Keiko an utterly unconvincing 'Everything is fine' smile.
"Noburi, Keiko, fill Kagome-sensei in on what happened in Mist. I'll be right back."
o-o-o-o
"Mari-sensei?"
There was no sound from beyond the door.
"Sensei? Sensei, it's Hazō. Can I come in?"
He was pretty sure that the whimpering noise was not an actual invitation, but he chose to take it as such.
The room was dark, the windows covered in heavy curtains that blocked out the tiny bit of sunlight that might have made it in. No lamps or candles were lit, but Hazō had brought one. The candle's flickering light was enough to reveal Mari-sensei, huddled in her bed with the blankets pulled over her head. The covers did nothing to disguise the quiet sobs that had her curled into a tiny, shuddering ball.
"Mari-sensei. Please look at me."
"Leave me alone."
Hazō took a breath, debating the best response. Was there simply nothing to do here? Should he just leave? The Sage knew, there were plenty of other issues to deal with.
No.
No, the Gōketsu needed Mari-sensei, and Mari-sensei needed something to focus on that wasn't pain, guilt, or self-loathing. And Hazō, the Gōketsu Clan Head, was the only one who could offer that.
Clan Head.
Sage, was he ready for that? Who was he kidding, thinking he could actually do this job? The family stood on the edge of doom, and Hazō was supposed to guide them around the shoals? It should have been Mari-sensei...well, it should have been Jiraiya, but both those options were off the table.
No. He could do it. He would do it, because there was no one else. And the first step in being in charge was to act like he was in charge. Mari-sensei needed him to be her strength, and that meant leaving behind the student/teacher relationship that required her to be the strong one. There could be no more Mari-sensei.
"Mari. Look at me."
There was a pause and then a head poked out from beneath the blankets.
Mari's eyes were nearly as red as her hair, her face was blotchy, and she was wiping at her eyes in order to be able to see him.
"Listen to me, Mari. With Jiraiya dead, I am the head of Clan Gōketsu. Kurosawa Shinji will always be my Poppa, but Jiraiya was starting to become a father to me. I miss him too. I would give almost anything to have him back, but that's not going to happen. Right now, we need to focus on surviving as a clan. The Hyūga are coming for us with knives drawn and some of the others won't shed any tears if we're destroyed. The Gōketsu need to survive and we need you for that."
He waited to see if there would be a response, but there wasn't. She just looked at him blankly, her lower lip trembling, tears and mucus streaming down her face as she cried.
"Mari!" he said, sitting down on the edge of the bed and resting a hand on her shoulder through the covers. "I need you—we need you to snap out of it. I order you to protect the political interest of the Gōketsu. You're worried about manipulating people? Fine. Do it to our enemies. You want redemption, do something to earn it instead of just wallowing in your own self-pity." Lashing out at her like this felt like driving a knife into his own soul, but it was all he could think of. They had given her space, they had given her time. There was no more time.
He studied her for a moment, waiting to see if his words would bring forth the iron or shatter the glass.
"You want redemption, to feel like you're doing good? Help me protect Keiko, and Noburi, and Kagome-sensei. Please."
There was no response.
What else? She couldn't do it for herself, she couldn't do it for Keiko or the others. Was it simply a lost cause, a problem with no solution? Was she truly that far gone to self-loathing?
Wait. That was her issue: Hating herself because she couldn't handle the responsibility of what she'd done.
"It's all on me, Mari. As your Clan Head, I am ordering you to help, and anything you do at my orders is my responsibility. Not yours. Do you understand?" No, that was wrong. You didn't ask questions when asserting ultimate authority. What was it that Mari-sensei had said to Akane after Akane ran herself to chakra-exhaustion?
"Mari. I have given you legal orders. Acknowledge your understanding."
"Please...."
"Acknowledge your understanding, Mari."
She turned away, the tears coming harder. "Hazō, please don't ask this. I can't. I just can't."
"Why not?" he asked, as gently as he could.
Her voice was pure pain when she answered, "I wasn't there."
"...What?"
"I could have been there. If I hadn't been hiding, if I had been doing my job instead of scrubbing floors and being silent, I would have been there when the call went out. I'm an elite jōnin, Hazō; I could have made a difference on the field. Truth Lost in the Fog...one glance and I could have shut down whole swaths of the enemy. I could have covered Jiraiya's flank, kept that fish bastard off of him. He'd be here now, taking care of things and keeping the city together, if I hadn't been such a cowardly failure."
"You are not a failure! And you are not a coward!" He forced himself to stop, fists clenched as he got his temper back under control. "Mari. You are not a coward. Yes, Momma hit you hard and you've broken. You can bring yourself together again, and you will. I know you will, because we need you to and you have always been there for us. Could you have helped Jiraiya if you'd been there? Maybe, maybe not. As powerful as you are, you aren't on his level, and the enemy was. Maybe you could have made a difference, but more likely you being there would have distracted him, made him focus more on protecting you than on protecting himself."
"Why?" The word was a barely audible squeak. "Why would he care? He wouldn't even marry me."
Hazō paused, thinking about that one. "Tsunade said that he was afraid of commitment, and I think a wedding ceremony was just too visible a sign of that. I know you wanted it, and I wish I had been able to stand up with you, but it wasn't the important part. He loved you; he said it himself, remember?"
"He...he was probably lying. Just to make me feel better. Just manipulating us. Me. He was the only one who could do that, the only one I couldn't manipulate. The only person who was safe from me, and now he's g-gone." She curled up tight, sobbing hard into the pillow.
"Mari. He loved you. He said it. He wrote an entire novel for you, just to make you happy. He could have just bought some nice jewelry or something, but he ran himself ragged to make a really thoughtful, personal present. He did love you."
The sobbing slowed, turning over time into mere sniffling, but she said nothing.
"He really did, Mari. Now come on. I need you."
"But...."
"No excuses, Mari. As your Clan Head, I am ordering you to get on your feet and protect this clan. Whatever you do, the responsibility is mine."
There was silence for about a second, and then a reedy, high-pitched keening that converted back into sobs.
Hazō sighed and stood up. "My responsibility, Mari. Not yours." He turned and left the room, closing the door softly behind himself.
o-o-o-o
The sun was drooping to the horizon, throwing gaping shadows across the wind-sculpted snow outside the house. Inside the house, the fireplace was roaring, the tea was hot, and the stories were flowing as the kids caught Kagome-sensei up on the less earth-shattering things that had happened at the Chūnin Exams. Keiko was taking entirely too much glee in relating the story of setting Hazō on fire, when she suddenly stopped in midword, looking over Hazō's head with wide eyes.
Hazō spun around in his chair to find Mari standing on the stairs. Her hair was washed and brushed. Her makeup was perfect, all trace of redness gone from her eyes, and her clothing and jewelry were elegant and understated.
"Your responsibility," she said, nodding to Hazō. And then she walked out of the room and out of the house without another word.
"Hazō," Keiko asked carefully. "What did you do?"
XP AWARD: 4
It is now about 5 o'clock.
Vote time! What to do now?
Voting ends on Wednesday, May 8, 2019, at 12pm London time.
If you are reading this, then either I am dead or you'll soon wish you were. If it's the former, I hope I at least took some of the bastards with me. Was I a hero? Did I die saving Leaf? Or did I just screw up somewhere along the way? Sensei always said my hotheadedness would be the death of me. I told him it would be suffocation beneath a horde of screaming fangirls. Guess now you know which one of us was right.
Naruto, if you're here, then it wasn't all for nothing. Just imagining you reading this message brings tears to my eyes. You were the best part of my life, and I let myself forget that far too often. I told myself nobody else could do my work. I told myself that I could always spend time with you later. I should have been more of a father to you than I ever was, and I hope that one day you'll forgive me for leaving you before I could learn how.
Mari, Hazō, Keiko, Noburi, Kagome. Looks like I brought you in only to leave you high and dry. I wasn't much of a husband to you either. Or a father. Or a research supervisor (Kagome, I can hear you gritting your teeth from beyond the grave). But I don't regret for a second that I tried. I was so proud of the Gōketsu, proud of what we were becoming together, and I know that you'll carry the torch we lit together on into the future.
All of you, look after each other. Family is the greatest gift of all, and I wish I hadn't taken so long to understand something so simple. I love you all and always will, even after I become one with the Will of Fire.
Gōketsu Jiraiya
-o-
Jiraiya had left one more message for each of them, including seal-protected ones for Naruto and Orochimaru. They already had one for Tsunade.
Hazō. You were always brilliant. I knew it from the moment I first took you in. You were also one of the greatest troublemakers ever to give me a recurring headache. I knew that from before I first took you in. You have the potential to change the fate of nations—hell, you already have—as long as you don't blow them up first. As Fifth Hokage, which I still am at time of writing, and Hiashi can take his politics and shove them up his ass, I hereby give you official permission to save the world. That thing you're trying to do that I never fully understood to my dying day? Do it. Let nothing hold you back.
Just try and make sure our village is still in one piece at the end.
One last thing. All of you are my family, but Naruto has been my heir for a decade. In his letter, I leave the clan to him.
He will need your help. Trust him. Support him. Respect him as your older brother, because that is what he's been all along. Together, there will be nothing you cannot accomplish.
But if he chooses not to lead the clan, or if I've failed to bring him back…
I, Jiraiya, founder and leader of the Gōketsu Clan, do hereby acknowledge Gōketsu Hazō as my heir. Let this be written into the records of the Village Hidden in the Leaves, and may his reign be illuminated by the Will of Fire.
You haven't had fifteen years of preparation for this day. You haven't had fifteen months. Even so, I already know that you'll find the strength to shoulder this responsibility. I know that, with or without Naruto, you'll grow into the leader this clan needs.
-o-
Tsunade did not look any worse for wear.
Granted, she was in a hospital bed with more bandages visible than skin, but her eyes were clear and her eyebrows perfectly functional as she rolled her eyes. For better or worse, the parts of her that made her Tsunade were completely intact.
"Took you long enough. I see you didn't bring Kagome, which is just as well 'cause I like this hospital in one piece, and Mari's still being a crybaby. Not exactly the army I was hoping for, but then again, the last one didn't work out so hot. So what do you want?"
"Before anything else," Noburi said, "we want to offer our condolences. I have no idea what it must be like to lose people that close to you, but at a guess, it's probably the worst thing in the world. I can't imagine it, and I don't even want to try. But for what it's worth, we're in your corner. You reckon there's something we can do to help, you just name it and we'll get it done, or my name isn't Gōketsu Noburi."
"I feel the same way," Hazō said. "Jiraiya was a great man, and you're probably the only one who knows the full truth of how great he was. I wish I'd had more time to find out."
"I concur," Keiko said with a strange tension in her voice. "We had finally begun to see Jiraiya for who he was, and it is unjust that he be taken from us before we could fully explore what that meant."
"You saw him for who he was?" Tsunade roared, eyes blazing. Some massive, unseen force pinned them all to the rear wall through its sheer pressure. "How could you possibly begin to—
"Ah, sod it." Tsunade slumped back in her bed as if some other emotion had abruptly cancelled out the anger. Keiko fell to her knees, face drained of blood.
"At least your heart's in the right place. But kid, you ever imply that you get how I feel, you with your drop-in-the-ocean knowledge of who he was, I swear on my grandfather's blood I'll punch you through the wall and then tear whatever's left to shreds."
Keiko tried to rise to her feet, but then stumbled back down. Hazō wished he could have offered her a hand up.
"So. You just came over to waste my time with platitudes, or have you got actual business?"
"Jiraiya gave us a message for you before he… left," Hazō said carefully. "It has a seal on it."
He handed it over. She studied the seal for a few seconds.
"He always did think he had a sense of humour."
Tsunade raised the seal so it was in front of her face… and headbutted it hard. There was a brief blue flash in the middle of her forehead.
"Hmm." She studied the now-open letter while the rest of them stared.
"Yadda yadda… first love, no better friend and teammate, references to epic battles I don't even remember, bunch of namby-pamby emotional stuff, blathering about how he gets why I left Leaf proper and what a big deal my work is, not that he ever bothered to send me a ryō, leaves me a load of stuff I'll just throw in the trash, classified information I don't care about… ah, here we go.
"He's begging me to give you my full support, like I was just going to leave you in the lurch if he didn't say it. Says I could be a good fit for the hat, which would be the greatest load of bullshit I'd ever heard if I hadn't had a chance to talk to Oro on the way to Nagi. Says I'm welcome to run the clan until the crisis is over, like I've got nothing better to do than babysit a bunch of kids."
"So… you're not taking over the clan, then?" Hazō ventured.
"Are you kidding? The second this place stops drowning in its own stupidity, I'm gone. I have real work waiting for me back home. Somebody has to be ready to put this world back together once you idjits are done tearing it apart."
"That reminds me," Hazō said, quickly amending his plans for the conversation in his head. "Is it true that clanless ninja aren't allowed to become medic-nin?"
"Horseshit," Tsunade snorted. "Anybody ever made a law like that, I'd make sure there wasn't enough of them left for a cremation. Hospital doors are open to anyone who passes the tests. Been like that"—her voice fell briefly—"since the second war.
"Hell," she recovered, "back home I have my genin train civilians because we don't have the numbers to go out to the farms. Half of them get eaten by chakra beasts, and the other half's as good as useless without medical ninjutsu, but anything's better than so-called folk remedies. You exorcise all the rot spirits in a village, and that's dozens of people safe from the weeping rot as long as they keep up the cleansing rituals.
"You find whoever's turning away prospective medic-nin, and you tell them that if I don't see twice as many being trained next time I'm passing through… eh, just tell them I'll be passing through. That's usually enough."
Hazō gulped.
"Can't you stay?" he asked. "If Hyūga takes the hat, if we have a xenophobic bigot like that in charge... it'll be the worst-case scenario."
Tsunade shook her head. "Kid, you have no idea what a real worst-case scenario is. Hiashi may be an asshole so big you can stuff the entire eastern continent in him with room to spare, but he is loyal, and not dumb either. He'll hate every second of it, but he'll make the alliance work, because he gets what's at stake. The problem isn't him getting the hat, it's him keeping it. He's no Yagura, but he wants to bring back a golden age that never was—and I should know. I was there.
"He wasn't as bad when he was your age," she went on thoughtfully. "He wanted to be Hokage, like every kid wants to be Hokage, but back then what he said was that he'd make Leaf such a paradise that all the filthy foreigners—got to remember, still brought up as a Hyūga—would crawl out of their filthy holes and come to the gates of Leaf begging to be let in.
"Difference is, kid Hiashi would've let them in and treated them like civilians with chakra. Today's Hiashi would drop a tactical-scale ninjutsu on them while they were all clustered together.
"What it comes down to is that he just doesn't get what it means to be Kage. Grandpa thought being Hokage meant being a symbol of unity everyone could rally around. He was a big softie, but he never held back—on anything. Uncle Tobirama thought being Hokage meant making the hard decisions nobody else could, so he was ruthless but fair. Sarutobi-sensei thought being Hokage meant guiding people to be the best Leaf shinobi they could be. Little Minato thought being Hokage meant doing whatever it took to make sure as many people lived happy, peaceful lives as possible.
"Hiashi thinks being Hokage means dragging the past kicking and screaming into the present, minus all the lessons we've learned along the way. Also, see above under 'asshole'. Even Uncle Tobirama, who'd taken the time to invent some of the world's strongest ninjutsu while fighting multiple wars, stabilising the Fire economy, writing the Leaf legal code as we know it and establishing proper law enforcement, and generally making Grandpa's huge but fluffy vision into reality, managed to stay patient and respectful because he got that you can't get anything in life done without help from the people around you."
Hazō nodded. "Respectful, you say? Well, that certainly puts this in perspective." He handed her the broadsheet.
It took several minutes for her to finish laughing.
"This? Hiashi? This? The boy's an asshole, not a moron. Also he doesn't have the sense of humour to pull a stunt like this. I can't believe you thought this was for real. Did they knock the brains out of your head at the Chūnin Exam, or was that gourd empty all along?"
The question should have been trivial. But what flashed across Hazō's mind wasn't being caught up in the whirlwind that was Ami. It wasn't blowing up Kortezan. It wasn't dancing with Ikeda or wrangling Shin or even being set on fire. It was Zabuza's eyes.
Not his sword. His eyes.
He could feel himself being held in a vice. He wanted to look away, but he couldn't close his eyes. Wherever Zabuza was, it was right in front of him, and his steel grip was not merely death but dying. Zabuza wasn't a man, mortal and finite. He was a force. Being killed by Zabuza was written into the core of what made Hazō human, no more escapable than Hazō's own heartbeat. Behind those grey eyes, beyond the mercy of the ancestors, was a death that was instant but lasted forever—
"Hazō! Dude! Hazō! Mr Mew! Can you quit spacing out? Tsunade's asking you a question!"
"Sorry," Hazō said dazedly. "What were we...?"
"Politics, duh," Noburi said. "Tsunade was just done telling us what she thinks of Mari-sensei going for the hat. This is important stuff, so pay attention, all right?"
"Oh," Hazō said. "Sorry?"
"Now I'm not fond of repeating myself, kid," Tsunade said impatiently. "I'm behind on Leaf politics. How many of the neutral votes do you reckon you can swing within the next week?"
Zabuza was dead. There were witnesses. He wouldn't be coming back.
Except he'd already cheated death once. He'd be back, and then—
"Hazō!"
"Sorry," Hazō repeated. "Two? Three?"
Tsunade sighed. "How'd I let myself get caught up in this bullshit? I never understood 'til now why Oro ditched the whole thing to focus on his research. Look, I've got nothing better to do with the Senju vote, so you come here and prove you know what you're doing, and I guess I might as well back you up. You waste my time, and I'll chuck it wherever. I don't much care who's in charge as long as they can keep the wolves at bay long enough to fix the mess Jiraiya left behind."
Keiko, sitting on a chair in the room's most distant corner, shifted her gaze from the floor to Hazō. "If you are quite finished daydreaming," she said quietly, "then we should hasten to deliver Naruto's message as instructed, and leave Tsunade to recover her strength."
"Naruto's message?" Hazō asked.
"Not filling me with confidence here, kid. Go leave Naruto's letter with the nurse. He'll send for you when he wants to talk. With what he's been through, he's going to need a hell of a lot of rest before he does anything else."
Noburi thanked Tsunade and they headed out. At the last moment, Keiko turned around.
"Once again, I apologise for any unintended offence," she said, bowing deeply. "I shall endeavour to be more considerate of your feelings in the future."
"Ah, get out of here, kid. I wouldn't really tear you to shreds."
"Oh." Keiko sagged in relief.
"Wouldn't be able to move far enough to reach you once you're through the wall. Best I can do is make sure that first strike goes through your ribcage, lungs, and spine, and leave it at that."
"Ithasbeenapleasuretalkingtoyougoodbye!"
-o-
Kei's world was not so much sorrow as fury.
The one time. The one time.
She had not chosen Ami. She had not chosen Mari-sensei. She had not chosen Hazō or Noburi or Akane or Kagome. Despite appearances, she had not chosen Tenten—it had never been a choice—and even Shikamaru had been thrown at her by political machinations, and by rare grace of fate discovered to be compatible.
The one time.
The one time a choice had been presented to her, the ability to decide between two equally valid options, and she chose to trust Jiraiya… and the universe killed him.
Why bother asserting her independence? Why bother asserting her agency when the world continued to treat her like a lifeless doll? Might it be better to stop, to surrender the pretence of free will that she had begun to delude herself with in Mist? Why should she exist as an individual in a universe that was not merely uncaring but actively destructive?
And him. How dare he? The Fifth Hokage, Jiraiya of the Three, the alleged greatest man in the world. How dare he die? Did he even comprehend what it had taken for her to open her heart this far to the man who had once placed her in a killbox? What it had meant for her to choose to trust him? She gave him her shuriken. How dare he not bring it back?
Kei had rarely been so furious with another human being. Even Hazō and Shikamaru, with their joint disregard for her humanity, had not driven her this far. If Jiraiya were not dead, if he had not gone gallivanting off into some distant place where she could never reach him, she would have killed him with her own two hands.
She almost tore the note in half without looking when a wary Hazō brought it to her. The next second, it was as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over her.
Nara Shikamaru requests the pleasure of Gōketsu Keiko's company at 8 p.m. tonight at the Nara compound.
While she had been wallowing in her own feelings over the man she had finally chosen to be her father, Shikamaru had just lost one he had lived with for his entire life. Kei could not imagine the kind of parental bond the two must have shared (though she imagined that it might have been a weaker equivalent of her and Ami's). Why had Kei, in her abominable egotism, not already rushed to his side to offer her support?
-o-
Shikamaru was alone. Lady Nara was absent. Shiori also. He struck a lonely figure sitting at one end of the great dining table, swathed in shadow despite the many lamps burning overhead. Though he would have received the news days ago at most, already there were deep circles beneath his eyes, and his ink-stained fingers tapped anxiously against the wood.
"Keiko," he said. Even his voice was hoarse. "Thank you for coming."
"Not at all. I apologise that I was not here sooner." She paused. As with most social activities, condolences were far outside her sphere of competence. She was aware, now very aware, that there were many ways to offend or inflict pain on those in mourning, but uncertain whether there in fact was a single correct response.
"I am sorry for your loss," she began tentatively. "I had little personal knowledge of your father, but I respected—"
Shikamaru held up his hand. "Please. Let us not have that conversation right now."
Kei squirmed at yet another unknown social failure. "I apologise for my insensitivity."
"No," Shikamaru said. "But there is far too much to be done to spare time for mourning. I had no conception of how much paperwork my father was forced to handle every day, nor how many important decisions were passed on to him by those unwilling to take personal responsibility. And of course, I must decide which of my father's projects to freeze so that I can invest my resources in handling the present crisis. I have not slept since I received the news, nor am I the only one enduring such demands. I had not previously understood why my mother so insisted on hiring me a personal assistant."
Kei nodded. "Then you invited me for a specific purpose?"
Shikamaru reached for a mouthful of curry without looking. His chopsticks glided over the surface of the rice without catching any, but he did not seem to notice as he brought them back to his lips.
"I believe you will agree that at this time, what Leaf requires is stability. The Mizukage may have saved the world with Hyūga Hiashi's assistance, but it is our responsibility to see that it remains saved."
"Saved the world?" Kei repeated incredulously.
"Am I the only one who reads the debriefings?" Shikamaru snapped. "She manipulated the jinchūriki into feeling a combination of intense guilt and gratitude, while Lord Hyūga supported her by reminding them that they might have been killed as they slept, but for the allies' sense of mercy.
"At this time, the jinchūriki comprise a significant proportion of each village's military power. Killer B may yet be the next Raikage, while Rock must secure the approval of Rōshi and Han before it goes to war. The Mizukage has delayed the Fourth Shinobi World War for as long as the jinchūriki's goodwill holds out.
"Which is not to say that stability is not essential. The weaker Leaf appears, the more pressure and manipulation the jinchūriki will suffer from their villages' respective hawks, and right now they are themselves barely stable.
"To which end"—Shikamaru rose from his seat—"Gōketsu Keiko, will you marry me?"
He stretched out his hand to her, then pulled it back with a wince.
"This makes for a pleasant change," Kei noted drily.
Shikamaru shuddered. "Believe me, the error of my ways has been most thoroughly impressed upon me. Insofar as I myself have no heir prepared, only average pain tolerance, and already less sanity than I would prefer, please rest assured that your welfare is of the greatest importance to me."
Kei loved her sister more than anything in the world.
"I accept your offer, Nara Shikamaru," she said graciously.
"Good," Shikamaru said briskly. "How's Tuesday for you?"
"I—I beg your pardon?"
"Village stability. Secure alliances in the face of chaos. Someone I trust to be at my side in a time of need. Swift resolution of key logistical and financial issues. Wednesday is also acceptable."
"Tuesday," a dazed Kei repeated. "This Tuesday?"
"I would have suggested Monday, but a display of respect for traditional values requires proper selection of venue, guests and rituals, which will take at least a day, and while the conjunction of the planets will not be optimal, it is the best we are likely to get on short notice.
"Here are the forms. I have taken the liberty of adding an extramarital relationship form, as well as provisional summoner registration. I would appreciate it if you returned them to me by Sunday night. No kunai marks, please."
-o-o-o-o-o-
The final page of Jiraiya's will outlines what he bequeaths to each of you.
The Toad summoning scroll goes to the Gōketsu, to be bestowed upon whomever the clan selects (along with a note that Naruto is still not eligible to be a summoner no matter how much he whines and no it's not fair but that's how summoning works so shut up brat), as do Jiraiya's personal notes on the politics of the Seventh Path, and his sealing notes. He has also left you a set of notes from his spy network that he never found a use for, including black market contacts, smuggling routes, and blackmail material on certain civilian authorities.
His ninjutsu scrolls go to Naruto, as do his personal savings. He also leaves Naruto an unlabelled set of access codes to bring to ANBU.
Various items of sentimental value are divided up according to unclear principles. For example, Jiraiya's diary and a copy of his first novel go to Naruto. His forehead protector and novel drafts go to the Gōketsu.
He also leaves behind a letter of pardon and immediate appointment as a senior medic-nin for Orochimaru, conditional on him safely returning Naruto to Leaf.
-o-
You have received 4 - 1 = 3 XP
-o-
What do you do?
Voting closes on Saturday 11th of May, 9 a.m. New York Time.
"Knock, knock?" Hazō called, completely redundantly with the fact that he was simultaneously actually knocking on Uzumaki Naruto's hospital-room door.
"C'mon in!"
The voice was reassuringly bright and bubbly...or, at least, it was trying to be. There was a quaver underneath it that made the hair on Hazō's neck stand on end.
Nonetheless, he pushed the door open and stepped inside with a smile, Noburi and Keiko following along behind.
The young man in the bed was their own age-ish; it was hard to tell. He had a messy haystack of blond hair, bright blue eyes that were red from crying, a shapeless long-sleeved hospital gown that disguised his body, and a friendly smile. There was screaming horror behind those tear-reddened eyes and his right hand was out of sight under the blankets. Probably holding a weapon.
"Hi," Hazō said in the same low and calming voice that he used when Kagome-sensei had a nightmare. He raised empty hands in a gesture of peace. "I'm Hazō. This is my brother, Noburi, and my sister, Keiko. You sent for us...? We were told to let you rest, so if you're tired then we'll leave you alone."
"Nah," the boy said. "I'm going stir crazy, and it was...good to get that letter. Come in."
Hazō stepped slowly closer, empty hands in clear sight, and sank into the chair next to the bed while Noburi and Keiko took up station against the wall—
"Hey!" Noburi yelped, turning left to face the door; he had finally stepped far enough from it and turned enough that his peripheral vision was able to catch sight of the ninja clinging to the ceiling above the door, a spinning vortex of chakra in one hand.
The ninja in question opened his hand, allowing the vortex to dissolve, and dropped to the floor. He ran his now-empty hand through his messy haystack of blond hair, then leaned casually back against the door with the sole of one foot against it, his arms crossed over his chest, and a smug grin on his face. The hospital gown still disguised his body, but the leg that Hazō could see was disturbingly thin, all traces of ninja musculature gone.
"Keep your pants on," the ceiling-ninja said, smiling. "I just wanted to make sure you weren't a threat. Alpha, thanks. I'll take my chakra back now."
"No worries, Boss. See you never," said the young man in the bed, before vanishing in a puff of smoke.
The actual Uzumaki Naruto offered the Gōketsu a nod. "So. You're the Gōketsu kids."
"Right," Hazō said. "Okay, I don't know how much you know about us...?"
"Gōketsu Hazō, Noburi, and Keiko," Uzumaki said, nodding to each of them in turn. "Formerly Kurosawa, Wakahisa, and Mori. Fled Mist on May 25, 1067, probably as a result of being tricked by Gorō Dan, also known as Shikigami. Helped to found the so-called Village Hidden in the Swamp, which was subsequently wiped out by a Mist task force led by Momochi Zabuza and escorted by forces from Leaf with Uncle Jiraiya at their head. Through a tragic series of missteps in the Swamp that could not possibly have been foreseen or prevented in any way, a large fraction of the Mist task force was killed either by the Swamp itself or during the battle with the traitors.
"The three genin and their teacher, Inoue Mari, faked their deaths and escaped some time before the battle. They dropped off the map until Uncle Jiraiya showed up and recruited them to investigate the so-called Liberator, a fake prophet funded by Mist as part of a false-flag operation intended to give them a toehold on the continent. The team was successful at that, although they suffered significant injuries in the process. Uncle Jiraiya took them to 'That Obnoxious Old Witch'—his words—to get their injuries taken care of, then gave them each an open-ended reward. Mori Keiko asked for advice, so he gave her a tip as to where to find the Pangolin Summoning Scroll, warning her that there was probably nothing to find and that it would be risky. He had expected that nothing would turn up and that he would claim that he had no further obligations but out of the goodness of his heart and because he was such a great guy he would offer her some jutsu and money as a replacement reward, thereby setting the idea that he was a valuable contact, a reliable business partner, and a good boss. To his amazement, they found the Scroll.
"From there they went to Hot Springs and caused an international incident that allowed Mist to take the place over with the fig leaf of 'offering protection in case of another terrorist attack'. Uncle Jiraiya got the group together and sent them to bring in the insane biosealer—" Hazō's deception-trained eyes caught the microexpression of fear that flashed across Uzumaki's face; the slight hitch in his voice was noticeable to all three of them, but Uzumaki continued after a moment as though nothing had happened. "—the insane biosealer Arikada Sugako in order to buy their way back into his good graces. They succeeded at this mission, albeit with one member heavily injured, and were allowed to stay in Leaf for a time in order to receive more medical care and jutsu as their rewards. They began to forge positive bonds with Team Asuma. Later, Kurosawa Hazō threatened a senior Leaf doctor, causing the entire team to be thrown into an explosive cell. Uncle Jiraiya very nearly killed them but was talked down at the last moment. He allowed them to remain for a couple days to...to finish their training, then tossed them out. Some time later, they came back and sold us the skywalker seals, their bloodlines, and the utility of another Summoner in exchange for being adopted into the brand-new Gōketsu clan with Jiraiya as its head. The clan had not yet been formed when we left for Noodle, but Uncle Jiraiya...."
He paused, his face crumpling for just an instant and his breathing getting ragged before he wiped his arm across his eyes and cleared his throat. "But Uncle Jiraiya said that he was going to form the clan as soon as we got back, with him as the Clan Head and me as the heir and sole other member." He grinned, the poorly-hidden grief and fear momentarily vanishing as a million pranks and years of mischief flashed forth from his eyes. "When I was a kid we used to talk about me adopting him into the Uzumaki, but that was a non-starter. As the last of the blood I'm the Clan Head. He used to say 'The Sage will come back and dance naked on a table before I will take orders from you, brat.'" He paused again, pretending to cough in order to hide his face for a moment, then cleared his throat and continued. "Anyway, we figured we'd come back and he would form the Gōketsu with just the two of us. The Noble Clans wouldn't care too much, since me giving up the Uzumaki name would mean that it was a dead clan and would lose its seat at the Council table. Framing it as a reward to the two of us for the amazing feat of killing that rat bastard Yagura and all his strongest ninja, it would have been a shoo-in. The minute that the bastards signed the paperwork we were going to have you guys brought in and adopt you right in front of them, while the ink on the Clan formation documents was still wet." He laughed. "It would have been hilarious."
The laugh faded and the smile slipped away. "I guess we see how well that worked out."
"So, you know a little bit," Hazō said offering a small smile that he was glad to see drew a response. "You got the note that we left with the nurse?"
Uzumaki pulled Jiraiya's scroll out of a pocket of his gown and wordlessly held it up.
"He left me the Gōketsu Clan Head seat," he said calmly. "You understand that?"
"Yes," Noburi said. "We get it, and we're okay with it. Honestly, we're more worried that you won't want us. I...I was really starting to care for Jiraiya, and losing him hurts. It's got to be so much worse for you, and we've never met, so...."
Uzumaki's eyes suddenly glistened; he wiped his arm across them and then plastered a smile across his face. "Yeah, well, we might not have met, but he told me the plan before we left for Noodle, so I've had a few months to get used to the idea that we would be family." The grin twisted a little. "Granted, for most of it I was unconscious, suffering from malnutrition and dehydration, and recovering from horrific torture, but what's a few details between family, amirite?"
"Oh good," Hazō said. "I'm glad. Um...I mean, I'm glad about the 'being used to the idea' part, not the other part. Um...sorry." He fidgeted for a moment, then decided there was nothing better than to plunge on. "I really did not know what to expect here...I wanted to honor Jiraiya's wishes, but I also didn't want you to feel like you were being pressured or...well, suffice to say that my head has been full of a lot of different ways this conversation could play out, and most of them were bad." He hesitated. "I...don't really know where to go from here. I want to make this happen, but I don't know enough about the politics or the law involved, or exactly how you're feeling about it. Is there paperwork, or do you just move into the master bedroom at the Gōketsu compound, or what? More importantly—"
Hazō stopped and forced himself to center. "Okay, we have this thing we do called Clear Communication Technique. It's where both parties say precisely what they're thinking as clearly as possible, avoiding implication and subtext in favor of spelling everything out in the most value-neutral terms possible. The goal is to avoid misunderstandings or accidental offense. Would you mind if I tried it now?"
Naruto laughed, an honest and clear laugh. "Uncle said you guys were weird. Go for it."
"Okay," Hazō said, gathering his thoughts. "My reaction to the current situation is extremely tangled, and I hope you'll bear with me while I pick it apart.
"I'm excited at the idea of having a new brother; growing up it was just me and my mother, so family is precious to me. I'm also worried that you may not like us, or that we will find that our goals and values are extremely misaligned, making it difficult to be in a clan with you at its head. Additionally, I'm afraid that we will be a reminder of Jiraiya that will cause you pain, or that our status as foreigners and former missing-nin will damage your political career, or make you mistrust us.
"Speaking of politics, there are a lot of political concerns going on right now. On the one hand, I'm afraid to bring these up because this is our first meeting and I care more about establishing good relations with you, my new family member, than I do about the politics. I worry that if I bring them up then I'll seem like I'm being opportunistic and attempting to exploit you. On the other hand, I'm afraid to let them sit for too long, as I fear that some dangers might become irreversible if not dealt with quickly. Separately, my head is buzzing with a thousand questions that I want to ask you—about Leaf, and Jiraiya, and Lord Third, and your signature jutsu which fascinates me more than I can express. I'm aware that a flood of questions is off-putting and I'm trying to make a good impression, so I'm keeping my mouth shut, but I should warn you that it is almost physically painful to do so and I'm not sure how long I'll manage it so please tell me to stop if you need to. My most significant fear, however, is that I remember the time I tried and failed at using the Clear Communication Technique with Minami, our temporary squad leader. She did not accept that I was in fact being sincere, and therefore I ended up doing more harm than good. I'm worried that the same thing will happen here."
He looked up from where he'd been staring at his hands, only to find Uzumaki's face crinkled up with twinkles in his eyes.
"Are you done?" Uzumaki asked calmly.
"Yes?"
Uzumaki burst out laughing. It took several seconds for him to regain control, but then he stepped forward and clapped Hazō on the shoulder. "We're going to do fine, bro. And call me Naruto." He looked over at the other two, still standing by the wall at the foot of the bed. "Same to both of you." He looked from one to the other, then cocked his head. "Hey, Noburi, I thought you were supposed to be the smooth one? How come you're letting Mr. MEW here do all the talking?"
Hazō groaned, Noburi laughed, and Keiko very slightly smiled for a moment.
"He's a bit of an idiot, but he's good at the whole 'inspirational speeches' thing," Noburi said with a shrug. "Our typical solution is to get together in advance, carefully work out a precise script that the doofiest of doofuses could follow, then watch as he goes completely off the road. At which point I will of course step in and save the day."
"Heh. And you, Ms Keiko-if-you-don't-mind-first-names? I'm guessing you do most of that planning and then give him the Stern Eyebrow of Displeasure when he goes offscript?"
Keiko lips twitched in something that might have been a smile. "I am comfortable with you using my first name, Naruto. Speaking more precisely, I notate holes in the plans produced by my more effervescent siblings."
Naruto's eyes got big and doe-like. "But...but aren't I your most efferthingy sibling?" He kept his eyes on Keiko but leaned sideways toward Hazō and stage-whispered out of the corner of his mouth, "What does 'effervescent' mean?"
Keiko snorted and gave Naruto a very schoolmarmish look, mixed lightly with amusement. "I see that, to my great sorrow, you will fit right in."
Naruto grinned and jumped onto the bed, bouncing twice before settling down crosslegged. Hazō was alarmed at how little the mattress moved and what it said about the casually-dismissed topic of malnutrition. "Okay, I've been checking around, and from what I've gathered—"
"Hang on," Noburi said. "We were told you've been locked up in this hospital room since you got back."
Naruto grinned and placed his fingers in the position of a cross. "The awesome thing about being Uz...Gōketsu Naruto, is—Multiple Shadow Clone Technique!—that Gōketsu Naruto is so awesome!" The last phrase came out in perfectly-synchronized quadrophonic sound as the original and the three new clones spoke in tandem. The three then promptly vanished in a puff of rapidly-dispersing orange smoke.
"Really?" Keiko said. "I am given to understand that the Multiple Shadow Clone jutsu requires a truly inordinate amount of chakra. Are you frequently so wastefully prodigal with your chakra as to pointlessly spend it on juvenile party tricks?"
"Fair warning," Noburi said, "if you push her too far you may find yourself being squished by an air-dropped pangolin. Or, worse, she might decide to get creative."
"Ooooh," Naruto said, eyes wide. "Pranks, huh? Bring it on, sis."
Any trace of amusement vanished from Keiko's manner. "Do not call me that."
"What? 'Sis'?"
"Correct."
"Well, what should I call you then?"
"You may call me Keiko. Or 'Your Dread Imperial Majesty'. Either one is fine."
"Okay, sis."
Keiko's eyes narrowed and the room grew colder.
"Saw that coming," Noburi muttered, only to back away quickly with hands raised placatingly when Keiko glared at him.
"On less life-threatening topics," he said quickly. "Perhaps we could talk about the Hokageship?"
"Ooh, yeah," Naruto said, leaning back on his hands. "That's gonna suck. SUA is a lock unless we do something clever."
Hazō frowned. "SUA?"
"Yeah, 'Stick Up Ass'. Also known as Dickface, Asshat, Mr. Giant Ass, and various other things as they come to mind. You've probably met him. Basically a walking sphincter with white eyeballs that he thinks mean his shit don't stink?"
Noburi snorted.
"If we may get back on topic," Keiko said, "how are we going to stop Hyūga from gaining the hat?"
"Well, I've only had a few hours to look around and talk to people, and it's tricky because my face is pretty well known and I suck at disguise." He paused, frowning for a moment, then shook the momentary thought away. "Anywho, my point was that my information is mostly based off how things were before we left for Noodle, which was before you guys smashed into Leaf like a rock into a pond and started making ripples everywhere."
He sat up again so he could tick points off on his fingers. "SUA's going to put himself forward for the hat, obviously." He flipped a hand briefly as though throwing away an irrelevant point. "Well, I mean, he'll probably have one of his bootlickers actually make the nomination, but same diff. Someone will probably put Chōza forward too. He's a hero of the Battle and the last survivor of the ISC—"
"You call them that too, huh?" asked Noburi, grinning.
"Well, duh!" Naruto replied. "I mean, life is short, right? Who's got time to be saying 'Inō-Shika-Chō' all the time? Yeesh.
"Anyway, as the last survivor of the ISC heads, Chōza'll probably get put forward. He'll hate the idea, but he'll take the hat if it's the only way to keep Le Grande Butthead from getting it. He won't vote for himself though, which is a little tricky." He cocked his head, staring at the ceiling in thought. "Cousin Asuma would make a good choice. Grandpa's son, survivor of the Battle, calm and diplomatic. Not as powerful as some of the other candidates, which will work against him. Someone will put Auntie in the ring, and be real quiet about who it was for fear she'll punch them into next century." He spread his arms, the already-familiar grin stretched wide across his face. "And, of course, there's me! The one, the only, the Mighty Naruto! Trained since birth for the job, Jinchūriki of the Nine-Taled Demon Fox, seven times Hero of the Leaf!"
"Or," Keiko said drily, "said more honestly, a fifteen-year-old chūnin with massive psychological damage who his opponents will claim may have been brainwashed by the enemies of the Leaf and is now choosing to join with a clan of former missing-nin whose current leader made a fool of himself in front of the entire Elemental Nations during the tournament, with a speech the naïveté of which cannot be overemphasized."
Naruto blew a raspberry at her. "Are you always such a stick in the mud?"
"Nah," Noburi said. "Sometimes she's terrifying."
"Naruto..." Keiko said carefully. "As Hazō said, it is very important to the three of us that we establish good relations with you." She paused, thinking. "Excuse me, that was incorrect, as it implies a purely mercenary motive. I should say that we very much want to establish good relations with you, since we want you to join our clan and become part of our family." She grimaced. "Although I can already see that you and I will have our...challenges. Regardless. My bloodline and my training make me good at logical analysis and therefore my role on this team is to analyze the plans put forward by my more proactive, and generally idiotic, brother."
"And by her sensible brother," Noburi interjected. "That would be me, in case you were confused."
"Thank you, Noburi. As I was saying. It is my job to analyze the plans put forth by others and to point out the flaws and weaknesses therein. I have noticed that this can be an uncomfortable process, since—"
"Spit it out, sis," Naruto said. "Don't need the windup, thanks."
Keiko gave him a sour glare, but nodded. "Fine. First, do you actually want the Hokageship? Second, do you believe that you are able to perform the duties implicit therein? You are visibly suffering from trauma and grief, to the point where even I am capable of noticing the signs. It seems probable to me that...'SUA'"—she grimaced but said the name gamely enough—"will be able to use these things against you. Would it perhaps be better to wait and run for Hokage later? You are still young, and with the relatively low power level of most of the candidates plus the looming global war, it is reasonable to believe that a new Hokage will be needed soon after this one is chosen."
Naruto's grin got wider but, to Hazō's eyes, more fragile. "Of course I want it! I've known since before I could walk that I'd be the most super-amazing Hokage ever. They're going to have to make another cliff, even bigger than Hokage Monument, just so they can build the Naruto Monument! And of course I can do the job. Grandpa and Uncle have...."
His face twitched in pain and he stopped talking. His eyes dropped to the scroll in his lap; his right forefinger was stroking it unconsciously. He sat like that, head down, moving nothing but that one finger, for several long seconds and then let out a shuddering breath and wiped at his eyes.
"'I am the God of Shinobi because I face my limitations'," he quoted softly. He sighed. "Sage's curse upon it. I'm not going to be able to cut it, am I?"
"No," Keiko said, her voice surprisingly gentle. "Not now, at least. I'm sorry."
Naruto sagged. "Balls."
The other three waited, saying nothing, as the (probably) most powerful ninja in Leaf slowly gave up his dreams...or, at least, put them on hold.
Naruto once again wiped the moisture from his eyes, then looked around at the three of them, grim determination on his face. "Fine. Maybe we put me forward as a spoiler if the vote looks tight, but maybe not. Either way, SUA is not getting the fucking hat. If he wins it, I'll cram it up his ass myself." His normally happy face flashed anger for just a moment. "Did you know, after they won the battle and Pain was dealt with, that son of a bitch said that us jinchūriki were 'too dangerous to be allowed to roam free'?"
All three—rather, the other three Gōketsu exchanged looks. "We did not know that," Hazō said.
"I did," said Keiko. "Shikamaru briefed me based on what Lord Akimichi told him. They both believed that Hyūga was playing 'Bad ANBU' to the others' 'Good ANBU'."
"Yeah, well, I'm sure he tried to spin it that way afterwards," Naruto said, grumpily. "The Mizukage shut him down before he could get to any specific ideas. I was a little too out of it to tell if anyone else agreed with him, but he said it." He smiled again, this one cold and grim. "Grandpa would be very disappointed with me if I assassinated a Clan Head. Uncle would think about it and then eventually decide it was a bad idea. So, fine. I won't kill the bastard." His gaze drifted off into an unknowable future.
Hazō considered the implications of having a brother who could sound so confident, and convincing, about his ability to kill the head of the Hyūga Clan. And, also, was choosing not to do it only because his now-dead grandfather would disapprove.
"Anyway," Naruto continued, coming back from his clearly murderous fantasies, "the Inuzuka will probably back Asshat out of loyalty to the village and traditions and blah blah blah jerkfaces. Asshat will be sure that the Uchiha show up to vote, and they'll go his way because they're afraid of being wiped out otherwise. He's got Kyoshō and Kurusu in his pocket, so they'll go for him.
"Motoyoshi, Amori, Hagoromo...they'll probably go his way. They've got commercial interests funded by the Hyūga and Uncle was pretty sure there was blackmail involved too. It's buried deep enough that he never managed to suss out the details, but he wasn't usually wrong about that kind of thing. Maybe we could pry them loose, but it's sure not a sure thing, if you get me."
"Sure," Hazō said, smiling. He was pleased when Naruto chuckled at the very weak joke.
"The Aburame probably vote for Asshat unless given a reason not to," Naruto continued. "It's a combo of things—loyalty on prior voting records and admitting that he would be a great candidate if he weren't a elitist asshat who want to keep Leaf isolated because ew icky foreigners! SUA's powerful, those annoying eyeballs make him great at information gathering, and he's got enough force of personality that he can talk most people into most stuff. Unfortunately, he sucks at making friends. Like, sucks to an annoying degree."
"I will note," Keiko said with a tiny smile on her lips, "that your poor grammar annoys me."
"Hey, I have super grammar! I am the grammar Hokage!"
"The indefinite article is 'an' when it precedes a vowel. The word is 'combination', not 'combo'. The correct verb form is 'wants' when used in the third person. Finally, a potential Hokage has no business using the phrase 'it sucks'. It is immature."
Naruto blew a long, wet raspberry at her. "Fussy, fussy, sis. All the peoples knows what I mean when I talks."
Keiko winced and rubbed her forehead as though in pain.
"So," Noburi said before things could escalate. "Sounds like Asshat has at least nine votes out of...?" He glanced at Keiko.
"Seventeen, presuming that the Senju and Uzumaki are actually voting clans."
"We are," Naruto said. "Aunty Sunny hardly never shows up"—he grinned at Keiko's glower—"but she technically has a vote. Proxies aren't allowed, though. You actually need to be in the room to cast your vote." He laughed. "It's funny how often critical and urgent votes would come up while I was out on a mission. Always proposed by someone in Dickface's pocket, too." He shrugged. "It's possible that Dickface or one of his butt-kissers will propose a vote to strip our voting rights in advance of the election. His argument would be that the Senju are a dead clan, since the only living member is a woman past childbearing age. For me...dunno. Probably they'd argue that the Fox's chakra may have contaminated my seed and therefore I will not be able to have healthy children, or my children might be possessed or something. If I can't have kids then the Uzumaki are also a dead clan and wouldn't get a vote."
Noburi paled. "Could he do that?"
"I do—" Naruto paused, surprised at a yawn sneaking up on him. "Sorry. I doubt he could pull it off. No matter what he says, we're technically living clans right now since there is still a Senju and an Uzumaki. Given who we are and who our clans are, it's very unlikely that he could convince a majority of the others." He snorted. "Besides, if he tried it then Aunt Sunny would punch him so hard he wouldn't hit the ground for a week."
"Good to know," Hazō said thoughtfully. "So he's got nine out of seventeen. That's bad but not awful. If we can get a consensus on the other side and then swing one vote we're good."
"What is the outcome if one Clan Head abstains, resulting in a tie?" Keiko asked.
Naruto shrugged helplessly. "Normally? The Hokage breaks it. I'm not sure what happens in this case."
"You mentioned that if you join another clan then the Uzumaki lose their vote..." Hazō said carefully.
"Yeah, yeah," Naruto said, waving dismissively. "Obviously I don't join the Gōketsu until after the vote. And maybe we can figure some way to keep the Uzumaki alive so we keep the vote." He raised a stern finger. "I'm joining Gōketsu, though! It was Uncle Jiraiya's dying wish that I boss you all ar—erm, that I join the clan that he created and rule it with all of the skill and training that he knew I had."
Hazō sighed and rolled his eyes.
Naruto dropped his hand back to the bed; Hazō frowned slightly. Had there been a slight tremor in the arm before it so-casually dropped?
"In seriousness," Naruto said, looking at Hazō and taking a deep breath. "If I'm not competent to be Hokage, then I'm probably not competent to be a Clan Head. Hang on! Don't get too excited there, Mr. MEW. I'm still taking the seat. I've got way better PR in Leaf than you guys do, and having me as the nominal head will go a long way towards legitimizing the Gōketsu. Still, at least for a while I'll probably have to leave most of the day-to-day stuff to you, if that's cool."
"It's cool," Hazō replied, smiling. "I've got some ideas. Like, first of all, there's the subject of—"
"I note that we have not actually confirmed the votes of the other eight clans," Keiko said quickly. "Naruto has named nine votes for Hyūga. Opposed to him will be the Gōketsu, the Ino-Shika-Chō, the Uzumaki, and the Senju. I am guessing the Sarutobi and the Minami will also oppose him."
"You nails it, sis." His eyes twinkled as Keiko clenched her fists and gritted her teeth.
"Which of the swing votes would we do best to target?" Hazō asked.
Naruto rubbed his ear in thought and then waggled one hand back and forth. "The Inuzuka would change their vote if they were convinced that Asshat was a bad choice. They're loyal to Leaf and will do what they think is best for it, damn the consequences. Hagomoro's only going for Brainless because they've got leverage on him based on some loans from the Sucktastic Collective—and yes, Keiko, that refers to the Hyūga Clan. Anyway, Dickface has ridden those loans pretty hard over the years, and the Hagoromo would probably love to screw him if they could get out from under. The Aburame...probably not movable. Not sure about the others. Motoyoshi, could maybe convincing." (Keiko's lips tightened and Naruto's eyes twinkled.) "They've always been tight with the Kyoshō and the Amori, and they've apparently blocked up since Uncle Jiraiya stomped his way into the hat. Give them a few generations, they might actually be the next ISC. It would be hard to pry them apart, but maybe not impossible. The Kyoshō are a little more xenophobic than the others, so they'll be on Asshat's policies like jam on soup."
"Toast," Keiko muttered. Everyone chose not to take note—Naruto because it would have spoiled his fun and the other two boys because the idea of being ground zero at a fight between the Nine-Tails host and the Pangolin Summoner sounded like absolutely no fun at all.
"Who are our actual candidates?" Noburi asked. "Hyūga wants it, certainly. You don't, although you said you're willing to go in as a spoiler but you're not going to take it. Lady Tsunade will get put forward but made it clear to us that she doesn't want the job. Lord Akimichi, but he doesn't want it either. You mentioned Sarutobi; would he want it?"
Naruto shrugged. "Not sure, actually. I think he'd be good at it, though."
"What's the voting process?" Hazō asked. "Show of hands, or what?"
Naruto grinned. "Nah, it's way more wicked cool than that. You know how clans have crests, right? Back in the Warring Clans Era people used to raid each other's encampments a lot, and they'd wear their crests while they were doing it—unless they wore someone else's, of course. Clans would usually have their crest on a banner in the center of the camp as a mark of pride. Sometimes, when a clan showed up for a big raid, they would bring a banner of their own. Anyway, when Senju and Uchiha joined forces other clans ended up facing them across battlefields and seeing their clan crests and banners. They decided to throw in with the growing power, adding their own banners to the crowd. Nowadays, elections for Hokage are done like that, symbolically. Each candidate puts their banner out, then everyone stands next to the banner of the person they want. If someone has a majority, they win. If not, the person with the fewest votes gets eliminated and you revote until someone has a majority."
"Interesting," Hazō murmured, his eyes distant as he pondered ways to game that system.
Naruto suddenly blinked and twitched slightly. "Aw, man," he said. "I ran out of energy just as that convo was getting good. Auntie Saya was all set to tell me...never mind. Sage's ballsack, I hate being so weak!" He leaned down the far side of the bed and came back up with a bucket full of yellowish pudding with a spoon stuck in it. With a sigh, he began stuffing himself, pausing once to cover a yawn.
"You're beat and my head is full," Hazō said. "Are you okay if we head out? Let you get some sleep while we chew all this over?"
"Thure," Naruto said, the heavily-overloaded pudding spoon still stuck in his mouth. "I'll thee you laydah." He extended one fist to Hazō; the other boy grinned and bumped it with his own...only to snatch it back when Naruto disappeared in a puff of smoke.
XP AWARD: 2
Author's Note: This scene covered well under an hour, but the XP award is high being I enjoyed the fact that you voted in my suggestion of 'Let EJ write whatever he wants. I trust him.' Note that this gratitude is based on having my request granted; proactively voting for that in the future will likely garner an award of 0. Nice try, guys. I'm on to your munchkinly ways. :>
It is now about 1pm on January 3. You are in the Leaf General Hospital, where you have apparently been talking to a Shadow Clone for the last half-hour-ish.
Vote time! What to do now?
Voting ends on Wednesday, May 15, 2019, at 12pm London time.
Ishihara Kenta's house was just as Hazō remembered it: a hardy two-floor wooden building, impressive by the standards of the district. Over there, on the top left, was the window of Akane's room. There was no light despite the winter gloom. Maybe it was a symbol of everything Hazō had lost. Or maybe she was out training.
The door opened slowly, reluctantly, at his knock. Akane's father hadn't changed either, including the half-grim, half-melancholy expression he'd worn when confronting Hazō last time. He took their presence in, eyes sweeping from Hazō to Keiko to Noburi to Kagome. Facing that many potentially hostile ninja would have been intimidating, possibly even terrifying, to a lot of civilians. Kenta, however, looked more weary than wary.
"Gōketsu," he said heavily. "I'm sorry for your loss. I suppose it must be even worse for you than the rest of us."
He did not, however, invite them in.
"He was a great man," Hazō said. "I know that, as Hokage, everyone in Leaf was his family. Thanks to him, I think we understand what that means now."
Kenta nodded.
"Is Akane in? I'd like to talk to her."
If possible, Kenta looked even more melancholy.
"You mean you don't know?"
"Know what?" Hazō asked with an inexplicable touch of anxiety.
"Heroes' Graveyard," Kenta said tersely. "Bring incense."
With that, he closed the door. He didn't respond to any further knocking.
-o-
Hazō ran like the wind. No, faster than the wind, his teammates scrambling to keep up. It had to be a mistake. He must have misunderstood something. Nothing could have happened to Akane in the safe, peaceful Leaf they'd left behind. And besides, Tsunade would have said something if it had.
It was only when they were past the graveyard gates that he understood.
"Hazō!" Akane choked out from within the world's strongest hug. "Hazō, can't breathe!"
"Sorry," Hazō said, quickly disengaging.
"I thought I was going to die," Akane exclaimed with a wince. "I missed you too, but… ow."
"Sorry," Hazō said again.
"We brought incense," he said sheepishly.
"Thanks. I was running low."
Hazō looked down at the sticks next to her. "Maito Gai?"
Akane's expression sobered instantly. "Yeah. They haven't prepared a memorial for him yet. I've been coming every day. I know I should be training, but…"
"Sorry, Akane," Noburi said. "He was the most youthful man I'd ever met."
Hazō couldn't disagree with that statement.
Akane nodded. "I guess it's up to us now. Me and Rock Lee. We need to find more people, to make sure Leaf doesn't forget the Spirit of Youth when we die, but it feels like the wrong time to be proselytising, you know?"
To Hazō, it felt like the wrong time for everything. Why couldn't the world in general, and Hyūga in particular, just shut up and let them mourn in peace?
"About that," he said instead. "You know how I'm Gōketsu clan head now?"
Akane gave him a strange look. "I guess you are. I know you must be under a lot of pressure right now, but I'm sure you'll make a great leader. Let me know if there's anything I can do to help." Hazō knew Akane well enough to notice that there was something, some unidentifiable edge in her voice that he usually associated with Keiko.
"You can," Hazō said. "Join us."
Akane's eyes lit up. The edge disappeared. "Do you mean that?"
"I mean it. I'm sorry for not saying it a long time ago. We're all family, and we were stupid to leave our sister out in the cold."
"You actually mean it?"
"You betcha," Noburi said. "Took us a while to figure that one out. Not just teammates, not just clan, but real family, no less than Hana is to Hazō, or Ami is to Keiko, or Aya and Saya are to me. I challenge any other family out there to have bonds stronger than ours.
"Also, I'm cool with calling you 'big sis' as long as you spoil me appropriately."
"Listen to them," Kagome said with mock despair. "I could've told them we were family months ago."
"You realise that makes you our cousin, right, Kagome?" Noburi said with an eyeroll. "No vague 'I must protect my family' stuff anymore—you're officially our whateverth cousin once removed. And we're yours."
"Huh," Kagome said wonderingly. "So… so you are. I'd never thought of it like that…" He turned away.
"To clarify," Keiko said to Akane, "we are offering you adoption into the Gōketsu Clan, with the full rights and responsibilities pertaining thereto, under Hazō's Jiraiya-mandated leadership."
Akane stared at her as if at a loss for words.
"After all," Keiko added wryly, "any family can be expected to have one black sheep."
-o-
Kei should have done this sooner. She had known that news of the battle had preceded their arrival. She should have hastened here the hour, nay, the minute she saw the casualty lists. Instead, it had taken duty to propel her, and the discovery that Tenten and Akane were not together. Kei ran for the training grounds.
The training dummies were all but made of iron, but Tenten continued throwing missiles without end. Her ever-capable, ever-alert girlfriend barely registered her approach.
"Tenten."
Tenten lowered her arms.
"Keiko."
In Tenten's uniquely-expressive eyes, Kei read a reflection of her own feelings. Pain. Anger. Helplessness… but also guilt.
If there was one thing Kei had not felt upon receiving news of Jiraiya's death, it was guilt. In the final moments, she had given all she had to that relationship, had for once acted like a competent human being. She was not the one who had failed to transcend her limits.
"Tenten?"
Tenten recovered her shuriken, then beckoned her over to their tree. They sat.
"Chūnin were permitted," she whispered.
There had been five chūnin on the Leaf casualty list. Five who had been in Mist with Jiraiya at the time, and had gone to fight alongside him on Nagi Island. Five chūnin whose impact on the battle, if any, would remain forever unknown.
But also five chūnin who never returned. The most probable outcome… was that Tenten would have changed nothing, and then been forever lost to her.
Tenten nodded as if following the chain of thought, then closed her eyes. "No right answer."
Just like last time she had seen Tenten so distressed, Kei could say nothing, could offer nothing. Indeed, it was positively selfish of her to have added another layer of suffering to Tenten's already troubled mind with her influence on Tenten's life.
They sat in silence, Kei as close as she could. She wished to believe that the distance was narrowing, little by little, but if so, the process was slow enough that it would require whatever the opposite of a telescope was to identify. They watched silently as the winter sun set, early enough that it was as if the day had never been.
She recalled the promises she had made to herself during the Chūnin Exam, the personal rewards that would be worth far more to her than a medal bestowed by Captain Zabuza before a crowd of strangers—and far more frightening.
But even Kei's social skills were enough to tell her this was not the time.
Instead, she would make the offer she had come to make, and perhaps the gifts she offered would salve Tenten's spirit, if only a little.
"Tenten… the Gōketsu Clan is preparing to undergo a phase of expansion. We are seeking talented non-clan shinobi. Would you like to join us?"
Tenten's response took barely a second.
"No."
Had Kei not been sitting down, she would have staggered back.
"Are you quite certain?"
Tenten nodded.
"But why? Adoption is the greatest gift a clan can offer."
"Freedom," Tenten said simply.
Freedom? An alien concept for a shinobi. The closest Kei had come to freedom was as a missing-nin, her choices conditioned by nothing more than the need to survive while evading the pursuit of the world's greatest hunter-nin. Fundamentally, all choices were made by others, or by the demands of the situation. Perhaps Tenten's experience was less painful than her own—it would not be difficult—but enough so to refuse this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity?
"You would have access to resources far beyond the reach of a common-born," Kei pleaded.
Tenten turned her head to indicate the vague direction of her home, then her shuriken holster. "All I need."
"You would have protection from anybody seeking to exploit you, or manipulate you, or simply interfere with your life!"
Tenten held out a hand, palm up. "Too valuable." Then the other hand, as if completing a set of scales. "Not valuable enough." She gave an ironic smile.
"A secure income!"
"Leaf needs to show strength. Reassure clients. Many D-ranks, C-ranks."
Kei, increasingly desperate, only barely stopped herself from appealing to Tenten's loss of direction now that Maito Gai was dead.
Finally, she took the plunge.
"Me!"
Tenten looked at her with perfectly clear eyes.
"I already have you. Always and forever."
And with that, Kei fell silent.
But later, before she left, there was one more distressing conversation remaining.
"Tenten… I must make a difficult, perhaps dangerous, decision, and there is no one else I can ask for help…"
-o-
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-o-
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Flashback: 1069 AS, January 2, 6pm (one hour since Mari's departure), the Gōketsu dinner table
"So...going back to an earlier topic," Noburi said, while remaining suspiciously focused on serving himself from the big bowl of noodles and boiled duck claw. (No one was concerned about eating it, since they trusted Kagome-sensei's skill at removing the venom sacs.) "What was the deal with Mari?"
"Nothing," Hazō said, shrugging. "I told her that we needed her, that's all."
"What else did you tell her?" Keiko said, her tone clearly implying that she knew her brother was being evasive.
"Well...she was feeling guilty about not going to Nagi Island. I told her that, as powerful as she is, she's not on Jiraiya's level. Maybe she could have made a difference, but she could also have distracted him by making him split his attention between protecting her and protecting himself. She shouldn't beat herself up about might-have-beens. And then I repeated the part about how dangerous things are right now and how much we need her help."
"And?"
Hazō shifted nervously. "Nothing. Well, I mean, I ordered her in my capacity as Clan Head to get up and help." Hazō quickly grabbed the plate of Mari-sensei's gyoza (leftovers from that meal back during the Chūnin Exams break, but still perfectly fresh due to the wonders of storage seal technology) and served himself half a dozen.
"Hazō," Noburi reproved. "You're a great liar, but we all know you. Whatever it is you're dancing around, spit it out."
"I...might have said that if she was worrying about manipulating people then she should do it to our enemies. And that, since I was ordering her as the Clan Head, anything she did was my responsibility and not hers."
Noburi stared at him. "Ah," he said at last. "I see no way in which this could go wrong." Pause. "How about you, Keiko? Any problems you can see?"
"The possibilities are myriad." She said nothing more, choosing instead to focus on her egg fried rice.
"I think it's great!" Kagome-sensei said. "You did exactly right, Hazō."
Hazō looked up in surprise. "Thank you, sensei."
"Yep. I was tired of Leaf anyway. I've been packed for months. You guys should grab your gear and then we can head out." He masticated his gyoza thoughtfully for a moment. (His mouth, as always, wide open.) "It's only been an hour since she left. The ANBU are probably still investigating StinkHead's murder. We should have at least half an hour before they show up to cart us all off for a fake trial and execution. That's plenty of time. I say we find her, bug out, and go back to that island in the Kanashi Ocean where we camped after leaving Snow."
"Kagome-sensei," Hazō said firmly, "we are not doing that."
"What, you want to go back to Iron? Seems risky. The stinkers might know to look for us there."
"I meant that we are not leaving Leaf. This is our home now. Also, there's no way that Mari-sen...that Mari assassinated Hyūga."
Kagome-sensei grabbed another gyoza and shoved it into his mouth, glaring angrily. He did not, however, protest. Hazō chose to take this as a victory.
"Changing the subject," he said. "Let's talk about Naruto. Hopefully the nurses will give him Jiraiya's letter soon, if they haven't already. And, also hopefully, he will reach out. I'm hoping that we might get to talk to him tomorrow. Kagome-sensei, how do you feel about the idea of Naruto being adopted into the clan?"
Kagome-sensei shrugged. "What does it matter? Not like I get a vote, right?"
"Sensei! Of course it matters!"
Kagome-sensei cocked his head in confusion. "Really? So if I say that I don't want that thing in our clan, you're going to just say 'well, okay, I guess we cancel the adoption that Jiraiya-stinker told us to do as his final wish, before heroically dying in battle trying to save us all from Akatsuki's insanity'?"
"Uh...."
"I get it." He chewed another gyoza, then mercifully swallowed and noisily swished his mouth out with some tea. "It'll probably be fine. The Fox seems kindly inclined towards Leaf, and especially towards Jiraiya. I assume it will be friendly to us, too." He glanced around as though he could see through the walls and out to where his trap arrays surrounded the house. "And it will be nice to have that kind of power on our side when these Leaf stinkers finally come for us. Still, you lot need to understand that the Fox isn't human and it doesn't have human morality. Offend it too much, it will swat us. That's why I intend to stay away from it until it's settled in. Can't take a chance on me saying the wrong thing."
"Naruto is not the Nine-Tails," Keiko said firmly. "He is the jailer of the Nine-Tails. That is what it means to be a jinchūriki."
Kagome-sensei snorted. "The word literally means 'the power of human sacrifice'. How do you not see this? We sacrifice a person in order to propitiate one of the Beasts. It appreciates the gesture, so it works with us for a few years or even decades. Then, when its sacrifice dies, the Beast lashes out so that we'll give it another sacrifice. It's a standard protection racket—as long as you pay the gelt, everything's fine. Once you stop paying, they show up with axes and clubs and beat on your sister and your mom and bust up the place. What about this do you not get?"
"That's not... But...." She huffed out her irritation and tried again. "Kagome, you should talk to some of the experts in Leaf. The jinchūriki are not what you believe they are."
"Uh-huh."
"What would it cost to talk to some people?" Noburi asked. "They've had a jinchūriki here for a decade and a half, and people have a much more personal awareness of him. Ask around, see if there are any incidents that indicate the Fox is in control."
"Hmph."
"Sensei, please just think about it?"
"Fine."
o-o-o-o
1069 AS, January 2, 11pm, The Soggy Tag
Leaf's premier ninja bar was literally packed to the rafters, the floor so crowded that some ninja were choosing to stand on the high-vaulted ceiling. The music was pounding, the dance floor was jammed, and some kind soul had paid for half-price drinks all night as part of a wake for Leaf's fallen. The band was red-hot and loud enough that if you were on the dance floor it pounded in your bones and drove out thought (and, therefore, grief), but quiet enough that if you were across the room at the bar you could have a conversation without needing to more than raise your voice a bit. The long counter was full up, five frantic bartenders slinging drinks as fast as they could dip from the beer barrels or pour from the firewater jugs. The people who had managed to actually get to the bar proper were fiercely defending their spots while the slowpokes reached over them to collect their drinks.
"Hey."
Anko glanced over at the guy who had just shoved his way in next to her. A couple inches taller than her, blond hair, a chest as wide as an oxcart and pecs like chiseled granite...yuuuuup.
"Hey, yourself," she said, turning to face him and taking a deep, shoulders-back, breath. "Want to buy yourself a drink and then sip it out of my cleavage?"
Mr. Pecs blinked and went red. "Uh...I mean...I thought...wouldn't that be...uh...." He shook himself out of his semi-stunned state. "I mean, yeah. But I wanted to check first if it was true that you're with, um...." He glanced around furtively and lowered his voice as much as possible while still being heard over the din. "Someone powerful?"
Anko laughed and deliberately raised her voice. "You mean those rumors about me and Hiashi boning like crazed mink?"
Mr. Pecs's eyes got very wide. "No! I mean, I would never question—"
"Unwad your knickers there, boyo. Those are all lies."
Mr. Pecs almost sagged in relief. "Oh, good. Well, in that case, would you like to—"
"Yep, definitely lies. I have never once bent him over his desk and spanked him until his ass glowed like an angry cherry bush. Nor do I have any way of knowing that his monogrammed satin sheets that were a wedding present from his lovely wife make lovely restraints, or that his hands are juuuuust the right size for me and that fucking someone with the Byagugan means your partner knows exactly where your G-spot is."
"Hang on there," asked the brunette chūnin to Anko's right. Her face was vaguely familiar...promoted just a year ago, maybe? No clan mon on her clothes... Hakamada? Yes, that sounded right. "Is that true? I mean, I always thought they were kinda stuck up, but if they can do that—"
"Oh, you have no idea," Anko said enthusiastically, turning so as to include the other woman in the conversation. "It's even better when you get a couple of them together—like, just to choose an example of two people whom I have never slept with, Hiashi and Hyūga Susumu—anyway, you get the three of you together and swap around to try all the different combinations. Also, I would like to categorically state that it is an absolute lie that the 64-Palms can be repurposed as a tantric massage technique that stimulates the chakra system for pleasure instead of pain. Also, since I have never been banged like a brothel door by Hyūga Hiashi I want to be very clear that he is absolutely not the absolute best lay I've ever had, and he has absolutely not left me walking bowlegged. Nor does he have the most adorable O-face I've ever seen since, to be clear, I've never seen it. And he absolutely does not scream in ecstasy when you put your finger—"
"Are you talking about Lord Hyūga?"
Anko looked over at the newest arrival to the discussion. Older woman, chūnin vest, grey hair, long face with a sharp chin, and riveting blue eyes. Anko had seen her in the Tag a few times but couldn't for the life of her remember anything about the woman, much less her name. Still, she had asked a question and it would be only polite to respond.
"Absolutely not!" Anko said, raising her hands in innocent refutation. "I have never done anything remotely sexual with Hiashi. Not in his bed, or my bed, or in that little grove on top of the Hokage Monument, just to the left of the part in the Second Hokage's hair. Nor on top of the grave marker for his grandfather, out in the Hyūga cemetery. That would be waaaay too kinky, even for me, no matter how much Hiashi might have begged for it as a way of sticking it to the grumpy old bastard. And that marble was damn cold—I meant wasn't! It wasn't cold, because I did not do that."
"Cut it out, Mitarashi," said the older woman. She looked at Mr. Pecs and the younger chūnin woman. "She's just yanking your chain. She's never slept with Lord Hyūga."
"It's true, I have not," Anko said solemnly. "Not once. Certainly not fourteen times." She cocked her head. "Well, fourteen times if you're only counting when one of us got stuffed like a Sagemas turkey, if you catch my drift. Because it's been zero times total." She nodded decisively.
Hakamada was looking back and forth between Anko and the older chūnin, eyes wide. "But—"
"It didn't happen, Hakamada," the older woman said. "She's just trying to cause trouble. Mitarashi, stop playing with fire. If word gets back to Lord Hyūga that you're telling lies about him then he might come after your skin, and Leaf can't afford to lose more jōnin."
Anko's heart lurched at the reminder of her losses. Sensei had apparently been in Leaf for days or weeks; why had he not sent for her? Why had T&I not asked for her assessment of the bastard? And why did she have to have been on a mission out of Leaf when the news came and the task force was sent? Maybe she could have turned the tide. Maybe—
"Nah," she said, covering the pain with her trademark grin. "I have a rule with all my boy toys: No sharps. Although, granted, that is not relevant to Hiashi since he and I have never even met face-to-face, much less crotch-to-crotch."
"Wait, what's this about Lord Hyūga?" asked a boy who couldn't be more than a year or two out of the Academy. More importantly, a Hyūga boy, going by the white eyes and the prominently displayed family crest on his shirt. Anko forced herself not to smile.
"Nothing! We weren't talking about him at all," she said.
"Yes, you were! I heard you use his first name, you disrespectful cow!"
"Cow? Cow?!" She shrugged. "Well, I suppose that's a compliment coming from one of you guys." She turned to the younger woman to her left. "Hey, Hakamada, do you know why every sheep in Leaf runs when they see a Hyūga coming?"
"Uh..."
"Because—"
"That's enough, Mitarashi!" snapped the older woman. "You've clearly had one too many. Go home."
Anko snorted. "Yeah, that's gonna happen." She grabbed Mr. Pecs by one of the gear straps on his vest and towed him towards the dance floor. "C'mon you. Let's get sweaty."
o-o-o-o
1069 AS, January 3, 3pm, the receiving room of the Inuzuka Clan main house
"What may I do for you, Lady Gōketsu?"
Mari extended the wooden box in her hands, bowing deeply as she did. "I wished to show respect for your loss." She waited until Inuzuka Gaku took the box before straightening up and continuing. "I've heard many lists of those brave men and women who fell on Nagi Island. Many of those lists contained names of both Leaf and Mist, Sand and Cloud and Rock, but I had to ask specifically after the fate of Kyomaru before learning of his death. As an outsider, I cannot understand the depths of your family's link with the ninken, but I know that the ninken are far more than mere animals. Kyomaru deserves as much respect and honor as any of the other fallen Leaf heroes, and someone needed to say that."
Inuzuka stared at her, seeking some trace of mockery. There was none.
After a moment, he looked down at the box in his hands, then carefully placed it on the floor in front of the cushion on which he knelt. It was a rich mahogany, polished until it glowed softly, with silver hardware for the clasp and the hinges. He unfastened the clasp and slowly opened the lid.
The inside of the box was lined in plush blue velvet, carefully arranged to cradle the dead pig's head swaddled in a yellow glaze that gleamed faintly in the light from the window. Below the head was a silver plaque engraved, 'Kyomaru: Hero of Leaf'.
"How...how could you possibly...." He swallowed and cleared his throat. "How did you know?"
"I knew that many Inuzuka liked to bring their partners to the slaughter yard. From what I've been told, it's used to give new pups basic combat training against relatively harmless opponents, and the adult ninken consider hog entrails to be a treat. I thought it would be a reminder of pleasant memories and closeness with your friend."
"Yes. Yes, that's exactly right. How do you know that? Why do you know that?"
Mari smiled, briefly, before the expression slipped away into sadness. "Sir, the question should not be 'why do I know that.' The question should be 'why do others not know?' My husband told me many stories about the Inuzuka, both about his political interactions with your clan in his role as Hokage and about his years in the field, working with various Inuzuka when the mission required it. Every single one of those stories emphasized that your clan are powerful and loyal beyond question to the Leaf. You do not receive enough credit for that." She chuckled. "I should add that even when Jiraiya told me how infuriating it was to argue with your Clan Head, he never had a single bad word to say against her as a person. I believe 'aggravatingly direct' was the closest he ever came."
Inuzuka laughed. "I'll be sure to tell her that. She'll get a kick out of it."
"He once told me a story about Inuzuka Mie," Mari said. "She was a jōnin he worked with, as he always put it, 'mumble-mumble years ago'." Inuzuka chuckled and Mari joined in. "The stories were...ahem...a bit racy, as was common with many of Jiraiya's stories." She cocked her head, looking up as she thought. "In fact, I believe she actually appeared in one of the Icha Icha books. I don't remember which one, but the character's name was Mei—Jiraiya had a habit of paper-thin disguises for the people he put in his stories. She rode a massive Foo Dog into battle, and her enemies would flee on sight. The first time she appears, the dog chased Jun through most of the Forest of Souls. That was apparently based on a true story; Jiraiya and Mie were teamed up for a tracking/capture mission, Jiraiya got a bit too fresh with her, and then he spent the next half hour hiding in the bathroom as her partner clawed at the door and growled."
Inuzu cackled madly. "I remember that! Aunty Mie told me that story when I was little!" He shook his head. "Wow, I haven't thought about that in ages. She died shortly after I graduated from the Academy."
"Oh, Sage's mercy!" Mari went pale. "I'm so sorry. I didn't think to ask—"
"It's all right," Inuzuka said. "Really. She died stopping a charge of chakra apes that were in the process of tearing down a small village where her teammates were recuperating from battle wounds. It was a noble death. Don't feel badly for reminding me of that."
"Thank you," Mari said, ducking her head gratefully. "Would you tell me about her? And maybe about Kyomaru?"
"I would like nothing better," Inuzuka said warmly. "Let me send for some tea."
o-o-o-o
8pm, January 3, 1069, the Gōketsu dinner table
Mari was the last one to the table. She dropped into her seat with a happy sigh and promptly reached out to rub Akane's back where the girl sat next to her. "I see you lot have been pretty busy. Nice to have you back, kiddo."
"Nice to be back, sensei! My parents were terribly excited to hear that Hazō had offered me adoption." She grinned. "Although my father did glower a bit and mutter about how, 'Lord Gōketsu or not, there better not be anything inappropriate.'"
"Hey! I would never!"
"Of course not," Akane said, beaming. "I told him that I would punch you through a wall if you tried it."
"Uh..."
Akane reached across the table and patted his hand. "Don't worry. I wouldn't really punch you through a wall."
"Oh, good."
"I mean, unless it was a very flimsy wall. Lady Tsunade has not yet taught me her Strength of One Hundred technique, which is necessary for penetrating more solid structures. We have been more focused on taijutsu and general knowledge." She bounced in her seat. "She even showed me the basics of medical ninjutsu! I have no real talent for it and I'm not sure if I want to pursue it, but she said that 'even an idiot should at least know how to fix her own bruises and pulled muscles' so I learned it." She looked over at Noburi. "Noburi, I always found your medic-nin skills impressive, but I had not realized just how impressive. It is an extremely difficult art."
Smugley Smuggington gave her two thumbs up. "What can I say, soon-to-be sis? I'm just that awesome." He looked over at Hazō. "Speaking of, when are you going to get off your lazy ass and actually do the adoption, huh? I want more sisters."
"Cut me some slack, Nobby. I haven't had time to figure out the actual legal procedures." Hazō paused, cocking his head in thought. "In fact, that's your job. Figure out the legal stuff, get any forms we need, and fill in a couple dozen of them except for the names and dates. That way we won't have to waste time when we find good candidates.
"On that subject—Akane, you understand that I was offering to adopt your family as well as just you, right? I thought it was blazingly obvious but earlier I realized that I hadn't actually said it."
Akane bit her lip nervously. "I...actually hadn't realized that. Thank you, Hazō."
Hazō smiled. Dodged a kunai there! Let's hear it for improving social awareness!
"It's not just because of you, either," he said. "The Gōketsu need new revenue streams and your family have a successful business. I'm betting that some investment from us will help them grow it, and we need the money."
Akane blinked and then smiled so wide her face should have split. "Thank you! They weren't expecting to be brought in, much less to receiving funding! Oh, they'll be so excited!"
"Go talk to them in the morning, okay? Tell them to put together a plan—how much they need, how they'll spend the money, what sort of growth they would expect. They should get it to Keiko as soon as possible for review." He glanced over at his sister. "Keiko, unless you object I'm making you Clan Treasurer. It'll be your job to track money in, money out, and how best to optimize it. If it's too much, hire some people and delegate. Later on we'll sort out whether or not you continue in the role after you're married. Cool?"
One eyebrow went up. "Are you sure it is wise to put such important tasks in my hands, Hazō? If I make a mistake, it would—"
"You won't."
"But—"
"Keiko. Stop. If you don't want the job, say so. If you're just being your usual self-doubting self...suck it up. There is no one in the entire world that I would trust more than you to keep this clan's finances in order. Jiraiya felt the same way."
"But..."
"KEIKO!" Hazō slapped the table with one hand, then froze and forced himself to place both hands gently on the table and take a breath. "Keiko," he said more moderately. "I have a problem respecting agency, we've determined that. You have a problem with hating yourself and believing that you're not good enough. Now, I'm going to work on my problem by asking you one simple question. As Clan Head, I am ordering you to respond to this question, and to respond only with the word 'Yes' or the word 'No'. The question is this: I believe that you are the single most qualified person to manage the clan's finances. I will not force you to do this job. Will you do this job?"
Seconds dragged by before Keiko finally replied.
"Yes."
"Good."
She fidgeted with her chopsticks for a moment. "On the subject of funding, you should know that...I..." She stopped and tried again, but no words came. Finally she set the chopsticks down and put her hands in her lap. "I will need some time to prepare before I can offer a proper accounting."
"That's fine."
"And I may not be able to do it. Really, if I make a mistake...."
"Stop. You had your chance, you agreed to take the job. Suck it up and stop complaining."
Awkward silence reigned and everyone kept their heads down, focusing on serving themselves from the mountains of dishes scattered around the table. Eventually, it became uncomfortable enough that Hazō forced himself to break the silence by bringing up the topic he'd been dreading.
"And, on the subject of adoptions: Lee. I brought this up once before and Keiko objected; we tabled it at the time but I'd like to revisit it now.
"Emotionally, I'd like to adopt him because he's an orphan who has just lost the only parental figure and source of emotional support that he's ever had. Pragmatically, I'd like to adopt him because he's a combat monster and we can use more firepower.
"I recognize that there are definite issues with Lee. He's loud, exhausting to be around, and the way he overplays the 'youth' thing and constantly drops innuendo is incredibly grating. I think it would make sense to sit down with him and discuss all that. Maybe we could set up some ground rules—more sedate behavior in the house, quiet hours, something. Maybe add more soundproofing. What do you guys think?"
Glances were exchanged.
"He brings some serious political issues," Mari said carefully. "His mentor was widely respected for his combat skills and reasonably well liked for his sunny personality. He was also regarded as...more than a little eccentric. He definitely wasn't invited to parties or offered positions of responsibility. Lee has many of the same personality issues but has not had enough time to develop the ridiculous skills that let Gai get away with it." She hesitated. "Also, as you mentioned, he hits the innuendo way harder than Gai ever did, and it's offputting to a lot of people."
"He's not a bad guy, and I feel for him," Noburi said, the 'but' looming large, "but if the only thing he brings to the table is combat power, there's better choices. Shoot, there's clanless jōnin that we could approach. Lee's powerful, but he doesn't play in that league yet."
Hazō's spirits sank. He had really hoped to be able to pick up some votes on the sympathy angle. "Keiko?"
The young woman in question had been staring at Hazō with flat eyes. "As Clan Treasurer, I would suggest against this course of action. Imagine me and him living under the same roof. Now imagine how long said roof will last, and how enormous the repair bill will be."
"I don't see the problem," Kagome-sensei said. "He's a nice kid, and pretty funny. Sure, he's loud and too excitable. Tell him to take it outside and don't ever do that in the house, around Keiko, or around me or Hazō when we're doing sealwork."
"Thank you, sensei," Hazō said with a smile. "Akane? Your thoughts?"
Akane hesitated, clearly torn. "Hazō, I'm not actually part of the clan, so—"
"Stop. You've been part of the clan since before there was a clan. Just because there's some paper to sign doesn't change that. You can choose not to share your thoughts but don't try any nonsense about not being part of the clan."
"Power's really going to your head there, huh, Mr. Mew?" Mari asked, laughing. She shook her head. "After dinner I am going to give you such a hair ruffling."
"Akaneyouweresaying?"
"I..." Akane paused and took a deep breath as though about to dive into cold water. "I think you should not adopt him. At least, not yet. Mari-sensei is right; as much as I admire him, Lee's overabundance of youth rubs many people the wrong way. The Gōketsu are not secure enough that you—that we can afford to accept disadvantages."
"Look, Hazō," Mari said. "At the end of the day, you're the Clan Head. If you decide to adopt him, we'll adopt him. We've given you our advice, now it's your call."
Hazō sighed. "Okay. Keiko, on a more pleasant topic, did Tenten agree to be adopted?"
"No."
Hazō opened his mouth to ask why...and then stopped. "I'm sorry," he said instead. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"No."
"In that case, moving quickly on, let's talk about what you told us about Shikamaru's proposal. Tuesday isn't a lot of time; do you want me to try to stall it until Ami can get here from Mist? As your Clan Head I might have some leverage there, and I doubt anyone would object to you wanting your sister in attendance. You could even do the legal wedding on Tuesday but have the ceremony later, if that would help."
Keiko blinked in surprise. "Yes. Yes, that would be...desirable."
"Done. Kagome-sensei, could you please write up something for me to sign? Work with Keiko on the wording, put it on my desk by breakfast. I'll sign it and send it over to the Nara first thing.
"Speaking of writing things..." Hazō leaned down and pulled a sheaf of storage seals out of the carryall the handle of which was looped over his chair. "Kagome-sensei, these are Jiraiya's sealing notes, plus all the blanks that he left us. I'd like you to look through them and pick out half a dozen seals that you think are the most urgent research targets. Try for a balance of combat power, defensive use, and potential economic value." Hazō had carefully gone through and removed the blanks and notes on Kagome-sensei's seals that he had thoughtlessly given to their former Clan Head. There should now be no trace of his blunder.
Kagome took the stack of paper in awe. It was awe-worthy: The lifetime expertise of the greatest sealmaster of his generation, all piled together into a stack of pages four inches high, each one the size of four hands put together. Decades of ruminations, experimental notes, research ideas, and reports of both failures and successes, in one tidy stack.
The stack was, of course, deceptive. These were the notes of a sealmaster; each page was covered in a very tiny and condensed version of Jiraiya's crabbed handwriting. (As well as the occasional coffee stain or food spill.) That writing was nothing but a coded description of what was contained in the storage seal on the center-bottom of that page. Completely expanded, the contents of that stack would fill a room. A large room.
"They're coded," Hazō said diffidently. "The code keys are probably in one of them, but I don't know which. I guess Jiraiya wasn't willing to take a chance on writing it down in his letter to me."
Kagome-sensei did not respond; he had already pulled out paper and brush and was busily working on decoding the first page of notes, completely oblivious to the world around him.
"I think we lost him," Mari said with a laugh. She politely pushed Kagome-sensei's mug of tea in the way of his groping hand; the sealmaster took a drink and then put the mug back, never looking away from his work.
"Looks like it," Hazō said. "How about you, Mari? What have you been up to?" It was still surprisingly difficult to skip the 'sensei'. He was the Clan Head now. Only until Naruto joined, but even then Hazō would still be in charge. Clan Heads called their subordinates by their name.
"Well, you know how it is," Mari said, her voice light and airy in a way that someone who didn't know her would have thought sounded like how she used to be. Those who knew her could recognize the obsidian edge underneath the words. "Places to be, people to twist into obedient pretzels."
Hazō and Noburi exchanged nervous glances.
"Anyone in particular?" Hazō asked.
Mari rolled her eyes. "Oh, relax, Mr. Mew. I didn't do anything you'd disapprove of. I took death gifts to the families of some of the Nagi Island heroes, and I checked in on some old friends to make sure they were okay. That's all."
"I see."
"Also," Mari said, "I've been going through Jiraiya's notes about the local underworld. I need to know who the players are before I reach out, but I definitely want to get the nightwalkers' ideas on how things work and any blackmail they can turn up. I've also started looking into some of the minor clans on the council, trying to get a handle on their business so we can find the best way to pry them loose from the Hyūga. Both of those parts are barely begun; the other stuff kept me pretty busy."
"I'm not sure how much time we have, se—Mari," Hazō said. "As soon as Lord Hyūga is out of the hospital I expect him to push the vote immediately."
"I wouldn't worry too much," Mari said. "I'm pretty sure he's going to be there for a while. Hairline fractures in spine and skull, four torn tendons, minor pleural effusion, bruised kidney and liver, herniated intestine, a lot of blood loss, burns across most of his left arm and torso, and a burst eardrum? That would be enough to keep anyone in bed for a bit." She grinned. "I mean, not that I know what his injuries are. Those records are private and I have no way of knowing what might be in them. Still, if that was the list of his major injuries then I would suspect he'd be laid up for a bit."
"I see." Hazō thought about it, then decided not to push. "Moving swiftly on, we saw Naruto today." Quickly, he sketched out the details of the visit. "No matter what political training he's had, he's pretty rocky. I think I'm going to need some political lessons so that I can fill in for him."
"Political lessons, huh? Yeah, I can do that," Mari said, seemingly to herself. Her eyes focused into the middle distance. "So. Let's focus on the Hokage vote, since that's the next big problem.
"Kyoshō is in Hyūga's pocket. No point trying to sway them until we own big chunks of at least a couple reliable markets and can compete directly with the Hyūga on that front.
"Sarutobi Asuma will be leaning against Hyūga. Both his father's students and his own students are tied to us. We can convince him the hat needs someone with actual charisma and everyone he loves will die if Hyūga pisses Cloud off enough."
A very slight frown creased her brow. "That takes care of the simple ones. Minami has had long enough to cool off about the thing with Jiraiya, and with him...being gone, they'll have cooled off further. The fact that our new Clan Head has previously reached out to them personally will help too. Good work on that, Hazō.
"The bandage over their feud with Hyūga hasn't really held. I think their participation at that meeting was mainly a play Hyūga made to get them committed while they were still furious and nobody was around to push back from the outside. Unfortunately, them opposing Hyūga is balanced by Hagoromo probably leaning toward him alongside the Kurusu block. Win some, lose some.
"Inuzuka and Aburame are both tricky. Aburame was willing to give us the benefit of the doubt when Hyūga tried to set Jiraiya up to fail when he wasn't there to defend himself. Jiraiya succeeded in getting Mist committed to an alliance and bringing Naruto back, and you kids succeeded in the tournament. We may be able to push that.
"I took a death gift for Kyomaru—Inuzuka Gaku's dog partner—and then got Gaku reminiscing." White teeth flashed in something that looked heartbreakingly like her old grin. "And yes, we're on first names now. Anyway, hopefully that at least makes sure they're on board with letting Tsunade and Naruto vote, especially given we can pull the loyalty-to-Leaf lever on that one, but I don't think it will get the loyal idiots who've committed publicly anywhere near retracting their support for Hyūga. Still, it's a foot in the door."
Her hands were moving now, plucking a loose thread from her sleeve and starting to twist and turn it. "I hate to have to say this, but Uchiha aren't going to be with us unless we can find something they really, really want. They'll still be weakened for, what a decade, realistically? While Hyūga's in a position of strength, with so many of Leaf's best ninja...gone, and a big clan he has an iron grip on. The Uchiha need to position themselves to survive. At the moment, that probably means kowtowing. Even though, as I understand it, their current almost-head is personal friends with Naruto, I don't see how that could be enough. At least, not on its own."
"That...is actually something we might be able to handle," Hazō said slowly. "They must know that the Kurosawa are an offshoot of their clan. They may or may not know that we occasionally produce Sharingan babies."
"Hazō!" Mari gasped. "Are you seriously offering to sell your children to the Uchiha in exchange for their vote?!"
"No!" He fidgeted. "I mean...we really need it. I'm not willing to leave the Gōketsu and become an Uchiha, but maybe we could...I dunno..."
"Maybe before we start selling children we could agree that for the next two years the Gōketsu will fund one of their businesses by way of a financial agreement that is a paper-thin cover over 'we are giving you money because you are poor'."
Hazō's eyebrows went up. "That sounds great. What—"
"Oh, and we could also agree to adopt a couple dozen of their surplus civilians that they're having trouble supporting because the Uchiha family income has been destroyed by the sudden absence of ninja-mission revenue?"
"Absolutely. I was thinking that we're short on manpower and we need to adopt some people, grow the clan a bit."
"Great. Sign this for me?" She plucked a storage seal from inside her kimono and unsealed a small wooden writing box, which she passed over to Hazō.
Hazō opened the box to find a wax stick, the Gōketsu seal, a folded-up parchment, a brush, and an ebony inkwell. He unfolded the parchment and skimmed through it; the language was simple, stating only that Gōketsu Mari had the permission of her Clan Head to negotiate business dealings and matters of adoption between the two clans.
He uncorked the inkwell, dipped the brush...and hesitated. He was Clan Head now, and fully cognizant of the fact that he was swimming in murky and shark-infested waters. Mari-sensei was...not at her best right now. It might be a good idea to put some effort into expectation management and rules of engagement.
"Just so we're clear: You're negotiating to fund one of their businesses and adopt some civilians, right? Nothing else?"
Mari shook her head. "Nope, that's it. I don't know if I'll be able to get in to see them tomorrow; I'll try, but everything is so up in the air with Leaf right now that it's hard to predict. Anyway, I'm sure once I broach the subject they'll jump."
"How much money...no, you know what? Talk to Keiko. Keiko, figure out what sort of budget we can afford for the investments. Mari, you are not to exceed that budget, understood?"
The woman in question rolled her eyes and gave an incredibly hyperbolic salute. "Yes, O Great Clan Head. Jeez, you'd think I wasn't on your side or something."
Hazō thought some more. "Keiko, I also want you to figure out how many civilians we can afford to take on. Mari, I'm assuming they won't be economically useful, right?"
Mari shook her head. "No. That's the point—they're trying to cut expenses, so they'll be keeping the ones with valuable skills and giving us the ones who are a drain on the coffers. Most likely we'll be getting the old, the very young, and the crippled."
Hazō nodded. "That's fine. Make sure they're all healthy. Keiko pointed out that we can't afford to let any spirits of disease across the threshold."
He turned to the other adult at the table. "Kagome-sensei?" No response. "Kagome-sensei!"
"Huh? What?"
"We're going to be adopting some civilians from the Uchiha Clan as part of getting their vote on our side. How would you feel about teaching groups? I'm thinking maybe we train these people to the point where they can become assets. Teach them calligraphy, get them work as scribes. Teach them enough math that they can do accounting. Maybe some of them could become tutors for wealthy families. What do you think?"
Kagome-sensei's eyes lit up with an unholy fire and his fingers began tapping together frantically. "Yesss. Yes, I could absolutely do that! And then those stinkers in the Academy will see that I'm a way better teacher than any of them!"
"They won't be ninja," Noburi cautioned. "The Academy instructors probably won't count it if it's just civilians."
"Bah!" Kagome-sensei waved the objection aside with disdainful ease. "Once my kids are tutoring their kids they'll change their tune fast enough!"
"Cool," Hazō said. "Keiko, figure out the budget for the financial stuff and the adoptions. Mari, do not exceed the numbers Keiko gives you. Also, don't break up families."
"I'll have to," the redhead said firmly. "There's not going to be entire families where everyone is useless." She raised a hand to cut off Hazō's objection. "It's a good thing. We'll make clear that all family members remaining on the Uchiha compound are free to visit their relatives at the Gōketsu compound. It's an amazing intelligence opportunity, and the Uchiha elders are smart enough to recognize that. They'll allow our ones to visit their ones so that they can spy back on us. It'll serve to bring both clans closer together, but with us as the senior partners since we're supplying the money. Give it a generation and careful bit of development, and the Uchiha will be a Gōketsu branch family in all but name."
Hazō started to protest, but then decided to close his mouth and let it go. The problems of the next generation could afford to wait until Leaf in general and the Gōketsu in particular were no longer on fire with a dozen different crises.
"Okay," he said. "Next problem: Summoning Scrolls." He nodded towards Noburi. "This touches on a lot of different issues. The scrolls are a source of money, so they reduce our dependence on the Pangolin and allow us to diversify and expand our economic power. They are a source of combat strength, helping to secure the family against attack and making us safer on missions. Having two scrolls allows us to transport messages and goods overland effectively instantaneously—Keiko summons Pandā here in Leaf, hands him a pack full of storage scrolls, Pandā unsummons himself back to the Pangolin/Toad embassy, hands the pack to a Toad, Noburi summons that Toad to Mist, or anywhere else, and boom. Literally tons of messages and goods essentially teleport across the continent."
"Remember Jiraiya had wanted me to ship him chakra water while he was on missions?" Noburi said. "Say we hire a few hundred D-ranks where a bunch of genin allow me to drain a bit of their chakra. I could tank up multiple entire combat teams, no matter where they were."
"No," Keiko said. "It requires a Summoner on both ends. A very specific Summoner, as it must be someone contracted with a Clan that has an embassy with the Toads. I have not yet had the opportunity to go through all of Jiraiya's notes on the Seventh Path, so I'm not aware of with whom the Pangolins currently have embassies. I do know, since I feel certain that Hazō intends to bring it up, that the Snakes are not among them. So far as I'm aware, the Pangolins and the Snakes are not in contact at all—which is odd, since they live much closer to one another than do the Pangolins and the Toads." She frowned. "The Pangolins and the Snakes are in fact even closer than they used to be, now that the Pangolins have committed entirely morally justified and not in any way distasteful conquest and virtual genocide against the Condors. Perhaps two or three days travel, if I've understood correctly."
"Noburi, you need to get an appointment with Doctor Yakushi. Your chakra system isn't normal and we need to understand it better. Find out if there are likely to be any bloodline-related issues that would affect your ability to use Summoning or the Multiple Shadow Clone jutsu. If not, we'll get you the Toad scroll right away."
"It will take some time for you to learn the necessary skills of a Summoner," Keiko said to Noburi. "Do not sign the scroll until you have completed the relevant training. If you do, you will die."
Noburi's eyebrows went up. "Well, that wasn't intimidating at all." He shook his head. "Do you think you can teach me?"
Keiko hesitated. "Perhaps? I am uncertain and I would be afraid of doing it improperly. You might be better off going to Sarutobi Asuma. He is the Monkey Summoner and, given who his father was, Sarutobi is far more likely to be a competent teacher than I."
"Noburi, that's on your plate too," Hazō said. "Deal with the adoption paperwork by dinner tomorrow, but get an appointment to talk with Doctor Yakushi as soon as possible. Summoning and Shadow Clones are too important to put off; I want to get you those power-ups yesterday."
Noburi flashed him a grin and a thumbs-up. "You got it, boss! And don't worry—once I'm internationally renowned for my incredible power, I'll be sure to defend you against any threats that you can't handle. You know...mice, squirrels...."
"Cool. Okay, next order of business is the Snake Scroll. It's currently in Hokage Tower, gathering dust. What do you guys say about us going over there and getting it?"
Five pairs of eyes stared at him in shock.
"When you say, 'go over there and get it'," Keiko asked carefully, "precisely what are you suggesting?"
"In Jiraiya's final letter to me he ordered me, in his role as Fifth Hokage, to save the world and let nothing stand in my way. Gaining access to the Snake Scroll would help with that and therefore his orders require that we get it. When Jiraiya took office, ANBU had been largely wiped out. He restaffed it with people loyal to him, meaning that they'll be positively inclined towards us. Mari, I know there are ANBU who think you're the greatest thing since the Sage. I say we all march over there with Jiraiya's orders in hand and grab the Snake Scroll. Present everyone else with a fait accompli."
"Oh, good," Kagome-sensei said. "You do want to go back to the island! What a relief!"
"Hazō, that would be treason against Leaf," Mari said. "The other clans would see it for the blatant and completely unjustified power grab that it is. I don't even know what the practical outcome would be, but it would not end with us free and in possession of the Scroll."
"But—"
"No. There are no circumstances under which this is a good idea. Once the Hokage has been appointed there will be further discussion about what to do with the Scroll. Maybe we can get it then, but taking it by force—which is basically what you're suggesting—would be the end of this clan."
Hazō glowered.
"Fine," he said. "Then let's do it from the other direction. Keiko, you said that the Pangolins and the Snakes weren't in conflict?"
"Correct."
"Great. Do you think you could get the Pangolins to send a diplomatic envoy there to open positive relations?"
"...Maybe? Why?"
"Good. Do it. If you need to sell it, talk about how we can help facilitate a Pangolin/Toad/Snake alliance that will benefit all of them. That's dependent on the Snakes saying that they will not accept any summoner except a Gōketsu."
Noburi sucked in a breath. "Wow. Some serious balls on that one, Mr. Mew."
Hazō shrugged. "I don't care. I'm tired of the powerful people here in Leaf, and in the rest of the world, with their politics, their stupid traditions and status games that make them let civilians starve and not do anything useful with chakra. I want that Scroll in this family so we can finally get moving." He glanced over at the redheaded misaimed kunai sitting across from him. "Unless you see a problem, Mari?"
She laughed and shook her head ruefully. "Not sure how you get your boxers on over those, kid, but no. It'll piss people off but it's not against the law or any unwritten rule that I'm aware of. Honestly, I think some of them will grudgingly admire it."
"Cool," Hazō said. "That was everything I had. Anyone else?"
Heads were shaken around the table.
"Great. Pass the fried plantains?"
He fell upon the deliciously sweet treat with abandon. Clan Heads who proved themselves competent by navigating tricky social and political issues deserved fried plantains.
Author's Note: A big thank you to the inimitable @OliWhail for contributing much of Mari's political lessons.
XP AWARD: 7 In large part because I really appreciated the players voting in my suggested 'Let EJ write whatever he wants' suggestion.
Vote time! What to do now?
Voting ends on Wednesday, May 22, 2019, at 12pm London time.
"Blessings be to the Sage, for I have borne witness to such a craving for self-destruction that all other madness shall henceforth be lesser in my sight."
It was not an auspicious start to the afternoon.
Their message had been sent in the morning, shortly before the cruel and unusual torture that was shopping for a wedding dress with Shiori. Kei honestly did not know whether this was a subtle act of vengeance on Shiori's part or the standard experience that hardened brides in preparation for the trials of marriage. After the thousandth virtually identical wedding dress, after the thousandth discussion on frills and fripperies (which Kei promised would be fed to a particularly undiscriminating pangolin, swiftly followed by anyone who insisted on inflicting them upon her), after the thousandth measurement-by-guesswork from a tailor who had been warned of the consequences of laying hands on her, yet insisted that her own knowledge of her body was insufficient… Kei found herself recalling that Zabuza was dead and it was now much safer to travel the world as a missing-nin.
Mercifully, the afternoon had come as she never believed it would, and Shikamaru was, as ever, a lone island of sanity to which she could cling (his written response having amounted to a very diplomatic "if I must").
"You mean this, don't you?" Shikamaru said miserably, looking at the resolve in Hazō's face. "You honestly believe that there is a scenario in which you are able to lawfully communicate with the sovereign head of a foreign state, and further facilitate the arrival of an agent of that state in Leaf, without so much as informing the relevant Leaf authorities, much less securing their permission. Gōketsu, how can you so contest the Hyūga in desire for your own clan's annihilation?"
"You're exaggerating, Shikamaru," Hazō said with wavering confidence. "For a start, there's no Hokage. No one can approve or disapprove of us sending this message, especially given that we're the Hokage's clan. If anything, until the elections, we have a better claim than anyone else."
"Gōketsu," Shikamaru said. "May I apply the power of the Clear Communication Technique?
"I do not intend my evaluation to in any way reflect my opinion of your moral character, nor of the effort you must have expended to arrive at this point, nor of the decisions made. It is intended only as a neutral analysis of your position, focusing on aspects I believe you have hitherto overlooked or underappreciated.
"The power of a clan, its very nature, derives from tradition, backed by countless generations of accumulated knowledge, and expressed through unique abilities refined over those generations. At the present time, the power of the Gōketsu, its very nature, derives from a man who is no longer with us, backed by at most a single generation of knowledge, and expressed through abilities refined over a decade at best. With him gone, your clan consists of a gifted commoner, three shinobi who left their clans before they could gain more than the bare rudiments of those clans' power, and Gōketsu Kagome, common-born until proven innocent. Your special assets are limited to a summoner and two sealmasters, proportionately powerful but trivial in comparison to any clan worth mentioning, which could wipe you from existence with numbers alone.
"Most damning of all, in the public eye, you are the alien scions of Leaf's greatest enemy. You simply have not had the years necessary to overwrite that perception. You are the weakest voting clan, and with the Fifth lost to us, it is only fear of legal precedent that keeps you from being stripped of your vote or even your clan status. To those who would advocate this, what are you but convenient fuel for Jiraiya's power grab, absorbed in defiance of both morality and law because of your concentrated strength, helpless dependence on him, and guaranteed lack of ties with his rivals?
"Relatedly, you underestimate the amount of security afforded you by your positive personal relationships with influential figures of the younger generation such as myself. Were we as a collective to be your enemies, as would be expected given your origins, or even simply disinclined to interact with you, you would quickly cease to exist as a political entity, no matter your legal status. Conversely, our tolerance influences the mood of others who have yet to decide whether to reject you as foreign matter. To fully appreciate this, I invite you to imagine a world where every clan heir shared Neji's values."
After a second's pause, Shikamaru leaned forward a little, interlacing his fingers below his face.
"I would note, in the spirit of the Clear Communication Technique, that it is incumbent on me as Nara clan head to make my decisions with this information in mind. You are suddenly worth far less to the Nara than you once were. It is fortunate for both of us, but especially for you, that the Nara unfailingly honour our commitments, and thus will proceed with the marriage irrespective of reevaluation, and thereafter acknowledge the bond it creates. There are clans, and not necessarily those which first spring to mind, that would have seriously considered terminating the engagement with the sudden death of the Fifth. Nevertheless, I must give serious consideration to which paths our alliance opens up for us, and which ones it closes, in a completely different way than my father had to.
"To finish off, please understand that I personally wish to be on your side. Keiko is the best bride I could have hoped for, and this one time I will admit that I find myself feeling a certain amount of affection for you two as well. While the rest of your family frankly intimidates me, I do not feel actual hostility towards them. As Nara Shikamaru, I wish for you all to prosper and find happiness. As clan head, these feelings are irrelevant.
"With all of this in mind, I urge you to tread lightly. Even if you successfully recruit Naruto as you must, you are far more vulnerable than you seem to understand."
"That bad, huh?" Noburi asked after a long, long second.
"That bad," Shikamaru confirmed. "Clear Communication Technique over; it is more tiring than I anticipated. Instead, allow me to share with you one of the most basic Nara techniques. When you return home, take five hourglass minutes to contemplate every way in which an enemy dedicated to your destruction—or simply convinced that you are an obstacle to their plans—could attack you, individually or in collaboration, and which of those attacks could be aimed at you this very moment, waiting for an opening, or worse, already in progress.
"There are those among the Nara who make this their daily practice, like use of the Dispelling Technique. A similar hobby, which I occasionally indulged in myself back when I had spare time, was to list the ways in which I would defeat any given shinobi I knew, based on their known and predicted abilities and the tools at my own disposal. It is very soothing, especially over a cup of herbal tea."
"To conclude," Hazō said, "you wouldn't recommend sending Mori a message."
"Indeed. Granted, while the idea of sending an unauthorised message of unconfirmed content to the sovereign head of a foreign state is merely sheer lunacy and guaranteed to have you tried for treason, you could instead theoretically apply to the diplomatic corps, which handles urgent international missives, such as calls for military aid, in the Hokage's absence. However, any messages that pass through their hands are heavily scrutinised, at times even rewritten to stymie secret codes, at which point your intent would be discovered. You are, need I remind you, under suspicion as foreign shinobi who have lived in Leaf for less than a year. Should you attempt to facilitate entry by an agent of your village of origin, for any reason but the Hokage's direct order, your reputation will take a hit from which it may never recover. This without considering the fact that, upon investigation, the agent will be revealed to be a jōnin infiltration specialist (my best guess as to Mori's specialisation) belonging to one of your 'former' clans. On reflection, perhaps I rejected the treason idea too hastily."
It was painful to hear, but not excruciating. Kei had known in advance that this was the most likely outcome. The world had always been a place of despair by default, at times dripping from the fangs of monsters, at times enshrined by the laws of men. Had she, knowing the governing principles of the shinobi world, allowed herself to hope for a miracle? If so, she had no one else to blame for the resulting fall.
"There's still a way," Hazō said, and her festival of self-pity was exchanged for Laser Element focus.
"Mori may be insane—"
Kei demonstratively reached for her kunai holster, brought with her today to deal with any overly-friendly shopkeepers.
"Mori may be a creative thinker," Hazō smoothly corrected himself, "but she's also disturbingly on-the-ball. It's not impossible that she might guess about the wedding and take initiative on her end. Just in case, I think we should buy some time. Would you be OK with putting the wedding off by another week? For Keiko's sake?"
"Not an option," Shikamaru said instantly. "I apologise, Hazō, but the guests have been invited, the venue has been set, the priest has been bribed, and my suit is being prepared even as we speak. Even if it were viable, which it is not, shifting the date now would lose us all the points we are about to gain by demonstrating your clan's commitment to Leaf tradition, which are not inconsiderable given that you are committing a fifth of your entire clan."
"A sixth," Hazō corrected. "Soon, anyway."
"Congratulations," Shikamaru said in the voice of a man watching with resignation as his cat fled with the last of his dinner. "You should go do enjoyable things now. I am given to understand those still exist somewhere in this world. Keiko, please remain so that we may share the thrill of browsing religious scripture."
The only reason Kei was alive at this stage was that she could not die before fulfilling her plans for the evening.
-o-
It was early evening by the time Kei staggered through the front doors, her mind already superimposing marquee decorations on the walls and ceiling, and red carpet (chosen to symbolise the blood that must be spilled on the path to righteousness, and Kei would never again allow Shikamaru to make binding decisions while sleep-deprived) on the floor.
"Is it over yet?" she greeted Hazō and Noburi as they sat talking animatedly over the kitchen table.
"Oh, Keiko," Noburi grinned. "Just the person I wanted to see. Which admittedly doesn't say much since there are only seven people who ever walk through that front door, counting Akane, and Kagome tends to use the back entrance anyway so he can check it's secure every time."
"Six people," Hazō said quietly.
Noburi's grin disappeared. "Right."
"You have business with me before I luxuriate in temporary coma in my room?" Kei enquired with saintly patience.
"That's right," Hazō said. "We have good news and better news."
"Consider yourself to have my attention."
Kei collapsed into a chair. Noburi, the hero they did not deserve, left to brew hot chocolate.
"First off," Hazō said, "we've had a messenger from the Tower. Turns out before we left for Mist, Jiraiya sent in an application for an extended sealing license. In addition to the existing broad license, we can sell to the Tower, and only to the Tower…"
He took a deep breath.
"Banshee Slayers Earbusters Earth Domes Five Seal Barriers Force Walls Goo Bombs Lesser Barrier Formations Variant Storage Scrolls to be Evaluated on an Individual Basis at the Time of Submission Silence Mines Tunneller's Friends! Also Vibrator Seals, listed under that name because Jiraiya.
"The list is to be kept confidential on both Gōketsu and Tower sides so no one automatically knows what seals we can make. He's also personally signed off on our certification as Leaf's head sealmaster, skipping the need for an inspection to validate that we're good enough to safely mass-produce advanced seals. Not that there would be any risk of such an inspector failing us for any reason coughHyūgacough, but this way we're the most certified sealmasters in all of Leaf."
Kei nodded. "In other words, you will continue to risk unimaginable death and destruction to us all, as triggered by some combination of ill fortune and personal incompetence, but now you will be consistently remunerated for it. I approve.
"I do also note that Kagome's personal seals are not listed."
"I noticed that. Anyway, it's money. Without knowing the state of the market, I have no idea how much it'll get us—Keiko, get on that when you have the chance—but it's a stable income stream for as long as Leaf needs seals."
"Unless someone invents a seal-printing machine," Keiko noted wryly.
"But all this brings us to the better news," Hazō said. "The implications for our Seventh Path situation!"
Kei's fatigue vanished in an instant. She sat bolt upright. The mug Noburi was placing in front of her, with its entrancingly sweet smell, was suddenly irrelevant.
"Proceed."
"So listen to this!" Hazō said as if he had just brought home an Academy report with five throwing stars in each subject. "We reckon that, with our multiple scrolls, we could force the beginning of a summon alliance where the clans are punished for attacking each other so much that they'll have to honour their treaties. That's also our springboard for getting them to abide by the kind of principles we'd want to implement here if we could influence war in the real world—I mean the Human Path—like respectful treatment of prisoners, and eventually, not doing horrible things to the people they conquer. If we can make it work for the clans for which Leaf has summoners, the ones we have easy access to, we'll have the foundations for something huge."
Kei nodded slowly. "To a summon, nothing is more sacred than a contract. They are not to be broken lightly. Surprise attacks against allies, for example, are unknown. An alliance must be formally dissolved before war can begin—which is not to say that dissolution cannot take place at a time when the invading army is already in position to cross the border.
"But how do we enforce this system of non-aggression and cultural transformation?" she asked, something within her whispering a reminder not to permit herself hope too soon.
"Simple," Hazō said. "We sell seals to every clan that's part of the alliance, or signs up to the alliance later. With our new income stream, we have a safe fallback position. We can afford to take a risk on a big project like this without being afraid that we'll starve to death if we mess it up.
"Now, once we get rolling, every clan will want our seals. It'll make them safe from conquest by the Pangolins and the other alliance members, who'd be able to crush them easily otherwise. It'll also give them an overwhelming advantage against anyone who hasn't signed up, which makes more clans which are desperate to join. This is the point at which they become dependent on our seals. If anybody wants to betray the alliance, or the ethical principles they signed up to, we cut them off. At best, they have to pull back from any territories they conquered earlier until they're left with only the territory they can hold by conventional means, like a ninja village having to abandon land because it no longer has the manpower to keep it clear of chakra beasts."
Which might be a problem for Leaf soon, Kei thought absently, one of many headaches awaiting the new Hokage.
"More realistically," Hazō went on, "now that they'd failed to abide by the terms of the alliance, and been denied the seals necessary to defend themselves, they'd be instantly swallowed up by one of the neighbouring member countries. No clan can afford to take that risk.
"You see?" Hazō said. "It's the perfect plan. Noburi and I were already brainstorming it earlier, and then suddenly that message came like a sign from fate. We can have a proper clan discussion later tonight. No, wait, there's the thing tonight. Maybe tomorrow, then. For now, what do you think?"
Kei wanted to take refuge in the Frozen Skein, to lose herself in a thousand unrelated calculations, but she already knew it was too late.
"To clarify," she said in a hollow voice, "your intent is to sell weapons to every clan that agrees to your terms, such that those which do not, or cannot, or later choose to leave the alliance, will have the full power of said weapons turned against them."
"You're looking at it all wrong, Keiko. I'm instituting a balance of power which we'll control." Hazō drew a circle on the table with his finger. "That balance of power will be more stable than anything that the Seventh Path has had so far. None of the clans will defect," he slid his finger from the centre out beyond the circle. "They'll know they can't take the consequences." He lifted the finger off the table completely and retracted his hand.
"Membership of the Leaf-founded alliance is going to be the carrot, and the Pangolins are already serving as the stick. They demonstrate the power of our seals, and make it clear that the only way to survive is to obtain those seals themselves. At the same time, once the Pangolins see that there are others with the same seals—we don't have an exclusivity agreement with the Pangolins, I checked the notes—they'll have no choice but to curb their expansionism. It's going to be so ironic when their brutality becomes the trigger for wartime ethics being enforced across the world."
At first, Kei could not speak.
"This is you, Hazō," Kei said numbly. "This is you. When I realised what our hands had wrought on the Seventh Path, I was in despair. I exercised my primary talent, that of repression, because at the time there was no choice. Was I, the full-blooded Mori with a mind so insightful it put sea sponges to shame, supposed to invent and propose some ingenious solution to a problem of which I refused to acknowledge the scope? Was I supposed to place my feelings above the needs of the clan? No, Hazō. I explained the situation, I explained my distress, and from there trusted you to find a solution which I would give my heart and soul to implement. You, who treated even civilians as people. You, who balked at the deaths of merely fifty such. I watched and waited quietly for you to end the unending genocide.
"But this is you. I have waited, and your solution to the problem of selling weapons is to sell more weapons. Your solution to the horrors of war is to threaten people using weapons. Your solution to the lust for conquest is to limit its targets to those who have failed to purchase weapons, or removed themselves from the weapons market.
"It is 'clever', you see. Imaginative and with far-reaching implications. Elegant in its own way. A path to eventual world peace so simple and effective it could only have been conceived of by an original thinker without peer.
"But Hazō," she pleaded, "all I ever wanted was for you to find a way for us to Stop. Selling. Weapons."
"Keiko..."
But she could not stand here and listen to his justifications. If they were weak, it would only hurt her more for trusting him. If they were strong, it would only hurt her more for trusting herself. Above all, neither could challenge her naive, irrational desire to just make it stop.
"I have just recalled that I still have errands to attend to," Kei said, rising. It was not technically a lie. She would identify or invent some, if only to last until the evening, when she would be granted a brief few hours of reprieve.
-o-
The dinner was as Kei had requested it. The atmosphere was less than convivial, perhaps due to the empty seat at the head of the table. Akane had explained that such rituals would serve to properly anchor Jiraiya's spirit until it could be guided to the Will of Fire, and while no one else present was quite certain how this meshed with the religious practices they'd grown up with, there was a universal consensus that now was not a time when they could afford to disrespect Leaf tradition. What mattered to Kei, however, was that all members, apparently including the dead, were in attendance and awaiting her special guest.
"Thank you for waiting for us," Kei said. It was time to fulfil a promise she had made to herself what felt like years ago. If, despite her endless limitations, she was able to triumph in the tournament, if she emerged the ultimate victor of the Chūnin Exam… then in defiance of those same limitations, she would find the courage within herself to finally take this step.
Tenten bowed. "Thank you for inviting me."
"I requested a formal family dinner in order to make a certain announcement," Kei said with as much conviction as she could muster. "Tenten and I have been in a romantic relationship for thirty-seven days, and with Shikamaru's express lack of disapproval, intend to continue to do so indefinitely."
She fortified her spirit for the incoming shock. That Kei was attracted to women was no news to anyone present (except possibly Fifi, who had commenced dinner early and was even now gnawing on what hopefully hadn't been somebody's dog). That Kei had moved on from her infatuation with Mari-sensei, or at least, as completely as she ever would, might be less expected—Kei guarded the mysteries of her heart even more fiercely than the sanctity of her body. But that Kei had fallen in love, and, far more amazingly, that her love had been returned, would be even more stunning to her family than it had been to her. She hoped they would not be offended by her delay in informing them.
"Thirty-seven days?" Mari-sensei smirked. "You mean the previous two hundred were just you flailing around? I could have had you together in a week if you'd only asked."
"I am so happy for you!" Akane exclaimed. "So can I have those novels back now?"
Tenten blushed suspiciously.
"Took you long enough," Kagome grunted. "I was wondering if I should say something, make sure you had all your ducks in a row before the wedding."
Everyone in the room stared at him aghast.
"What?" Kagome asked. "We live in a village full of secret genjutsu users and Yamanaka and blackmailing Hyūga and mirrorverse ANBU and lupchanzen. You think I wouldn't check up on my cousin when she decides out of nowhere to go 'train with a friend' every other day?"
Kei's eyes settled on Hazō, waiting for him to complete her humiliation.
"I just assumed you were close friends."
She accepted the consolation prize without comment.
"I'm glad that's all out in the open now," Mari-sensei said cheerfully. "So what did Shikamaru say?"
"I made my position clear, as well as the consequences of disagreement. Happily, no further action was required."
There was a round of shivers across the table.
"Well," Noburi said, "at last we have something to celebrate."
Akane gave him a cold look.
"Uh, no offence, Akane," Noburi swiftly backtracked. "It's just that we decided to invite you all the way back in Mist, whole days ago, and we figured you'd say yes, so that's awesome. But it's a different kind of awesome from this completely new development that I totally didn't see coming months ago and spend all that time worrying about whether it would work out or whether my sister would have her heart broken all over again."
"Me neither," Akane agreed peaceably. "Tenten, why don't you sit down over here, between me and Keiko?"
"Thank you."
"Kagome, do you have any of that spiced hot chocolate left?" Akane asked.
"Funny thing," Kagome said mischievously. "Somehow I just felt like brewing up an extra-large batch right before tonight's dinner."
Mari-sensei rolled her eyes. Tenten smiled.
This was Kei's family. Tenten, to the best of Kei's understanding, had lost hers a long time ago. It was a subject she avoided. Was the freedom she treasured truly worth rejecting this?
Perhaps, in time, Kei could ask again. Assuming it would be possible after her marriage. Assuming it would be possible after tonight. If not, perhaps the family she would build with Shikamaru, Lady Yoshino and Shiori might one day approach this one's warmth.
-o-
Finally, with dessert finished and vital sugar flowing through her veins, Kei rose from her seat. She suppressed her trembling. Tenten was by her side. It was no coincidence that she had chosen tonight to introduce her. She would need all the moral support in the world.
"I have a further announcement to make." Her voice did not tremble.
"What's that?" Mari-sensei asked casually.
"Subsequent to the delivery at the end of this month, I am withdrawing from the Gōketsu contract with the Pangolin Clan."
"What?!" Hazō exclaimed. "Keiko, I can't allow—"
"On the contrary," Kei said. "Team Uplift was not a legal entity, nor its missing-nin members. Upon being acknowledged by Leaf, we received formal rights to our possessions, at which time ownership of the scroll naturally became mine as it was part of my contract, which Leaf recognised as valid. I have never transferred ownership of the scroll, either to the clan or anyone else, and do not intend to do so. I would prefer not to argue over further legalities, which I suspect I have researched better than you."
She could feel her hands tighten into fists without any decision on her part.
"I understand that this is a meaningless gesture. Noburi will soon become the Toad Summoner, whereupon you will be free to make and maintain whatever contracts you desire. However, even if I cannot wash the blood from my hands, I can at least cease to immerse myself, and no longer ask myself how many Pandās I have personally killed today. And yes, I appreciate that there will be personal consequences for me. I expect to lose my tessera. I do not know whether any of my current contracts will remain. Ultimately, however, either the Pangolin Clan can cooperate with me on our original, pre-Gōketsu, terms, or they can find a new summoner—a feat they will struggle with insofar as there are some very picturesque volcanoes on the southern islands."
Dead silence.
Hazō opened his mouth again, but Mari-sensei raised her hand. She glanced at him for confirmation, and he nodded.
She gave Tenten a quick appraising look, then looked up at Kei.
"Keiko," she said. "I'm very proud of you. I know it can't have been an easy decision. I can't pretend I'm not a little anxious, but we're the ones who chose to trust you with our finances. If you've decided that we can stay afloat without the pangolin income, all I can do is have faith in you.
"In a way, I envy your courage. I've cut and run plenty of times in my life because I was too scared to face my problems head-on. You know that better than anyone, since it's how we all ended up in the Swamp of Death to begin with. I told myself that I couldn't make a difference because Yagura was too strong, and then Shikigami gave me an excuse to pretend I was being moral when I was just running away. I surrendered my agency out of fear. You're surrendering yours as an informed decision, and that makes all the difference.
"I know it must have been tough to make a decision based on your own independent judgement, especially when what you choose could end up determining the futures of two worlds. It must have taken you months of thinking, with no one you could trust to help you decide, or to help you shoulder such a huge responsibility. Nobody should have to go through that when they have a family that's supposed to support them."
Mari-sensei's eyes shimmered with unshed tears.
"Keiko, I'm so sorry for being such a poor mother to you that I never realised the depth of your feelings. I'm sorry that I wasn't there for you when you needed me because I was too busy worrying about the survival of the clan, forgetting that the clan is made up of its people. I should have taken the time to talk to you and find out how you really felt, and then maybe we could have figured this out together, step by step. I hope you can forgive me."
She bowed her head in apology. "I know it's too late to make amends for how much I've hurt you. All I can do is offer to help you work out where to go from here, and to believe in the responsible adult you've become. You've trusted us with your future often enough… maybe it's time we trusted you with ours.
"Do it just one more time, Keiko. Look me in the eye, and tell me that this is what you want to do."
Kei felt dizzy. The room blurred around her. This was too much. She felt sick. Who did she think she was? To come here and throw an ultimatum in the face of the people who loved her? To play the martyr when they would be the ones paying the price? To allow herself to believe, even for a second, that a broken thing like her had the right to decide other people's destinies? She did not deserve Mari-sensei's kindness. She barely deserved to live—
A strange, unfamiliar sensation. She instinctively looked down at the source.
Tenten had tugged at the loose edge of her kimono sleeve.
She could hear gasps from around the table. Tenten had just crossed a line that could not be uncrossed.
Kei stood frozen in shock, her tormented mind suddenly completely blank.
Tenten's gaze was anxious. Uncertain. Ready for rejection. But determined nonetheless—to step into the unknown and do what must be done.
Into Kei's violently cleared mind flooded one of Mari-sensei's own teachings. Unexpected. On some level frightening by its very presence. Yet somehow…
For someone like you, Keiko, there is only one defence against a hostile social expert. Do not engage. Do not speak to them. Do not make eye contact. If possible, do not look at them at all, because body language is a weapon. Do not listen. If you can't escape, speak pleasantries until you can get out of the conversation. Never be alone with them. Above all, do not listen. As a last resort, assume that everything they say, without exception, is a lie. It will cost you, but not as much as going toe-to-toe with someone you know is better at lying than you are at catching lies.
Mari-sensei was not a hostile social expert. She was one of the very few people Kei trusted unreservedly in this world. But if Kei had gone from conviction to nausea in seconds, if it had taken a serious boundary violation to render her able to think…
"Tenten, may I walk you home?"
-o-
A walk beneath the stars with one's lover could have been the height of romance. Instead, an awkward silence hung in the air like an invisible wall. They did not look at each other. They did not speak. They did not acknowledge each other's existence except to maintain an even pace.
The door to Tenten's house marked the final boundary of decision. Kei would enter or she would not. Both choices had implications.
Kei hesitated. Finally, she gave Tenten a questioning look.
Without a word, Tenten held open the door to allow her in.
Tenten's flat was almost exactly the same as before—small, spartan, and, usually, inexplicably safe—except that now Kei recognised a number of the weapons on the walls, and knew their basic uses. The memory almost made her smile.
Almost.
The only other change was that on the far wall, above Maito Gai's Guide to Attaining the Spirit of Youth, a pair of nunchaku occupied pride of place.
Tenten, catching her eye, motioned to the kettle. Kei nodded.
At the table, tea served, Tenten bowed her head in abject apology. She remained in that position, unmoving, while Kei gathered such courage as yet remained to her.
She had fulfilled one of the promises tonight, if in a cataclysmic context. And then, as part of that same cataclysm, fate had offered an apology of sorts by presenting an opening to fulfil the other. And if it was not quite what she had imagined… well, there would be time.
"Tenten," she said.
Tenten looked up at her.
Kei forced her breathing to slow. She ignored the screaming of her heartbeat. She closed her eyes and clenched her fists.
She held out her sleeve.
-o-
Lacking a benchmark, Kei could not say whether she had displayed extraordinary mental resilience by lasting this long, or, more probably, once again displayed her pathetic lack of willpower. Certainly, several eternities had passed, but with Kei's eyes closed and her other senses not exactly at their finest… for all she knew, for Tenten they could have been seconds.
The terrifying, comforting weight of Tenten's fingers disappeared one final time, and Kei took a deep breath in like a pearl diver finally reaching the surface. She opened her eyes.
Tenten's expression was the most beautiful she had seen for a long time. Delighted. Proud of her. Honoured by her trust. When was the last time anyone had looked at her like that? Even Ami could not escape the bounds of being the older sister forever superior to the younger. She could never bestow upon Kei the respect of an equal.
However, with achievements in drawing closer to the bare minimum qualifications for being human came commensurate exhaustion, to say nothing of the accumulated stress of the day. But if there was one experience she did not have the strength to handle at this time, it was returning to the compound and facing the people she had betrayed. Thus, emboldened by her boundary-shifting success, she took one final step before she figuratively collapsed to the floor.
"May I stay here tonight?"
As if in perfect sync, they turned to look at the room's solitary bed. Then back at each other. Kei's mind filled with static as blood rushed to her face. Visibly, Tenten's too.
After a few seconds of paralysis, Tenten slapped herself on the forehead and withdrew a bedroll from her equipment chest, spreading it on the floor. She gestured for Kei to take the bed. Kei naturally, made the opposite gesture.
Initiative: Tenten, Keiko
Tenten tags the scene Aspect "My House, My Rules".
Tenten Standard: Empathy: ?
Keiko Resolve: 20 + 6 = 26
Keiko wins.
Tenten Supplemental: Move pointedly towards the bedroll
Keiko Standard: Intimidation 20 + 6 = 26
Tenten Resolve: ?
Tenten spends 1 FP to reroll.
Tenten Resolve: ?
Keiko wins. Keiko chooses not to inflict stress.
Kei won the ensuing staring contest. Given that not long ago she had been the genin capable of forcing Jiraiya to a draw, Tenten had never stood a chance.
Of course, then Tenten gave a warm "I really can't win against you, can I?" smile that reduced Kei's feeling of soaring triumph to mere common-or-garden joy.
In time, the two girls lay next to each other in the dark, separated only by the height of a bed and a mind-meltingly small amount of horizontal space. It was beyond Kei's power to explain how here she was, with the world falling down around her, with Jiraiya dead, with her family hating her for her betrayal, with the unknown terrors of a wedding to come in the morning… and yet, for just this one moment, she was at peace.
-o-
It was the most surreal experience she had ever had. Well, nearly the most surreal. One of the top ten, at least. That was Kei's life now.
Shikamaru was dressed in traditional Leaf marriage armour, Senju plate dyed in Nara colours, to demonstrate his readiness to defend his new family. On his belt were two ceremonial sai, indicating his gentle side with a weapon designed to maim rather than kill. Kei herself was in a flame-red dress which represented her being infused with the Will of Fire (symbolising purification of her foreign roots, as well as having other connotations she chose to ignore), with a wavy, flame-bladed sword on her back to represent the complex path she had taken to arrive at this point.
But questionable fashion choices aside, Kei was so overwhelmed she could barely stay on her feet. A wedding. Her wedding. For fourteen years, she had been completely certain that she would be single for the rest of her life, neither worthy enough to marry out of love, nor worth enough to marry in the name of politics. She had not dared imagine being at the heart of such a ceremony—being celebrated. Any minute now, they would all realise their error. They would cast her down and curse her for wasting their time.
But until that time, she was swathed in a reality that was not a dream. Part of her still could not believe it, and a greater part of her knew that she was merely a tool of economic exchange. But this was her wedding, the only one she would ever have, and if Shikamaru was not the partner she would have chosen, she still had hope that she might be happy by his side.
Around her, representatives of every clan watched the procession, some cheering and others silent. She could see Yamanaka wiping tears away with a handkerchief. Kagome, in one of the red outfits Akane had given to him, smiling nervously with his hands deep in his pockets. Hazō and Noburi, Noburi mouthing, "Hell yeah!" Had they forgiven her? Could they ever forgive her? No, Kei suppressed those thoughts. This was not the time. Instead, she focused on the crowd. Hinata, smiling and waving. Hanabi on her shoulders, deadly serious, nodding her head in respect. Shiori, meeting her gaze with red eyes and a complicated smile. Naruto, roughly once every four people.
In the distance, in the section partitioned off for common-born shinobi and civilians (as well as those whose adoption paperwork was still in progress), Akane was virtually bouncing up and down, exuding that ghastly energy called "youth" so intensely that Kei could feel it even from here. Next to her, Tenten met her eyes, conveying radiant warmth that required no words, her hands firmly closed over Rock Lee's mouth. Dr Yakushi, mysteriously still not a clan ninja, was giving Kei and Shikamaru a contemplative look. And behind them... behind them, dozens of civilians waved an enormous banner reading "CONGRATULATIONS FROM THE GŌKETSU KEIKO FAN CLUB", with frolicking black kittens marking the corners like heraldic symbols.
On second thought, perhaps this was a dream after all.
She refocused on the ninja section, seeking sanity among the Uchiha. However, the young man was completely obscured by a huge litter bearing the bandaged Tsunade. She seemed disgruntled to be here, though not as much so as her bearers. The presence of Mari-sensei, next to her, should have been comforting, yet for a second, a flash of steely-eyed focus behind her smile almost made Kei feel afraid.
She rapidly moved on, only to be blinded by the sun. In this overcast weather, there could only be one source of such glorious light.
Ami.
It was over, then. Such a beautiful dream.
No, Ami had taught her a lesson for use in exactly such an emergency. Kei touched the Frozen Skein.
The world remained.
So did Ami, banishing the darkness that had been constricting Kei ever since she returned to Leaf. Kei could not imagine how it was possible for Ami to be here, and to be here now, but it did not surprise her for a moment that her sister had managed it. After all, Ami was functionally omnipotent.
Kei was unable to tear her eyes away. Ami's expression was joyful. Encouraging. And, in the underlayer only Kei had learned how to see, gleeful. As if she were witnessing the payoff of a particularly sophisticated plot.
Next to Kei, Shikamaru shuddered so violently she could sense it without having him in her line of sight.
Oh yes. He existed. They were partway through a wedding ceremony. The shrine was a matter of metres in front of them. The assassin in white was further to the left. The Hagoromo priest, elderly and grey-bearded, was placing the Scroll of Ancient Wisdom on the lectern.
"Rikudō Sennin iwaku," he droned in the ancient tongue that none but priests and scholars bothered to learn, "ninshū ni sugureru mono nomi…"
Kei, who had naturally memorised the relevant texts in advance, tuned out the voice in the favour of watching the priest's hands as he drew forth seven gems: blue for the Human Path, white for the Deva Path, red for the Asura Path, green for the Beast Path, grey for the Preta Path, and black for the Naraka Path. Then he added another, iridescent, gem, and many in the crowd gasped. They must have gone their entire lives without seeing the Seventh Path gem, the privilege granted to summoners alone.
The priest raised his hands, and without interrupting his reading, began to quickly juggle the seven gems, clockwise as was only proper.
All eyes were drawn to the microcosmic wheel of transmigration spinning before the happy couple. Then, as the priest's voice rose to a crescendoing chant, the ninja waiting atop the boulder to the left, clad in white pyjamas, leapt down with a yell. He reached for Kei, but Shikamaru easily interposed himself. Failing to kidnap Kei, the White Ninja instead drew his his enormous, unwieldy naginata and thrust it (yes, thrust it) at Shikamaru, who caught it with his sai.
Meanwhile, behind Kei, a ninja in black pyjamas slowly crept up to her, theatrically standing on tiptoe with arms stretched out in front of him. While the White Ninja symbolised the incompetence of evil, the Black Ninja symbolised the need to be vigilant for it nonetheless.
Kei counted off the naginata-on-sai clangs. One. Two. Three.
She spun around, blocking the Black Ninja's matte ninja-tō with a slash of her sword.
He sought to stab her, but she easily deflected his attacks.
Five clangs. Six. Seven.
She swept the blade across with a magnificent flourish which in real ninja combat would spell her certain death. A ball of black cloth, trailing red string, rolled off the Black Ninja's neck and tumbled away. He collapsed, head tucked deep into his pyjamas. Behind her, Shikamaru plunged both sai into the White Ninja's chest. The White Ninja fell to the ground, rapidly casting a series of red ribbons into the air from inside his clothing.
Back to back, the bride and groom stood triumphant over the forces of evil.
They turned and walked to the true shrine, where the Hagoromo priest was waiting for them. Without a break in his chanting, he cast the seven gems to the couple one by one.
"I call upon the Sage of Six Paths," Shikamaru called out while juggling the gems between Kei and himself, "to bestow the blessings of Six upon my beloved bride, that the bonds between us be as strong as the bonds between worlds, that our sharing of thoughts be as clear as ice, and that our self-interest be enlightened by the Will of Fire."
"I call upon the Sage of Six Paths," Kei responded, "to bestow the blessings of Seven upon my beloved groom, that our bonds be as eternal as the journey of the soul within the cycle of reincarnation, that we may walk together as shadows, unbroken in light and darkness both, and that our cognitive biases be burned away by the Will of Fire."
"Thus mote it be," pronounced the priest.
Finally, Kei and Shikamaru embarked on a much truer test of their relationship than anything that had come so far. They had to cup their hands.
In flawless coordination, as if reading each other's minds, they moved their right and left hands respectively towards each other. The hands were so close that, to an outside observer, they appeared cupped together. Only the tiniest, exactly-balanced sliver of chakra repulsion separated them. Were either side too strong, or only one side active, the hands could be visibly pushed apart or slip past each other. Were either too weak, the hands could touch. The proximity was unnerving enough already.
Their cupped hands thus separated as one, Kei and Shikamaru allowed all seven gems to fall into them, and then rolled them into mouth of the rainbow-painted urn symbolising the Sage of Six Paths.
There was a massive cheer from the audience as the final stage of the ceremony was completed. Turning back, Kei and Shikamaru cast a series of blunted kunai with exorcism tags attached in the vague direction of the crowd, in high, lazy arcs. Per tradition, any who caught one would be freed of any evil spirits interfering with their love lives, while any who tried and failed would be distracted from their love-related woes for some time to come.
-o-
The second the wedding was over, Kei rushed her sister into a nearby marquee, leaving Shikamaru to stand guard against any suicidal mortal who dared to interfere with the reunion.
"Ami!" Kei exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"
"Celebrating my darling little sister's wedding, duh."
"Allow me to rephrase. What are you doing here?"
"Seemed like a great place to study social dynamics. Most of the important people in Leaf are hanging around together, and they're all wearing their clan crests."
"Allow me to rephrase one more time. What are you doing here?"
"Oh, I asked the Mizukage whether she'd be paying her respects at the Hokage's funeral in person, and after a second's thought, she told me to have my scrolls packed within the hour."
Kei sighed. "I suppose we may as well be thorough. What are you doing here?"
"Taking notes." Ami beamed. "Didja see how there was a gap between the Yamanaka and the Akimichi? And where Uzumaki did and didn't place his clones? Nice crest, by the way, see if you can incorporate it into the Gōketsu one after the vote. Oh, and there was this cute Nara kid trying not to fall apart. I can't wait to hear that story. Are you going to be a heartbreaker like Mari-sensei? Oh, speaking of which, I have got to catch up with her. The thing with the thing? Masterful. Can't believe I missed it."
"The… thing with the thing?" Kei asked warily.
"If you haven't heard about it, I'm betting you will soon. Leaf looks like so much fun already. Looks like I'm going to have to bring my A-game if I want to join in!"
"Wait." Kei rewound the conversation in her mind. "Mari-sensei?!"
"Oh, yeah," Ami said. "I'm your senior student. Mari-sensei was one of the people who showed me the ropes back when I was a young and innocent chūnin. There aren't that many I&S specs in Mist, you know. She and I were never close—not that the Heartbreaker was close with anyone—but we worked well together. I helped her keep her hand in during downtime, and she gave me some very effective pointers. Hey, maybe she can tell me why my disguise skills have gone rusty all of a sudden."
The revelation left Kei completely numb.
"How did you know when to come?" Kei asked mechanically.
Ami gave a meaningful silence.
"I can field that one, I regret to say," Shikamaru's voice came from the marquee entrance. "After a certain unfortunate act of insensitivity on my part, Mori arranged a meeting and enlightened me as to my responsibility for Keiko's welfare as her husband-to-be. Once my mental faculties were restored, she engaged me in unrelated political discussion. A number of subjects were lightly touched on, one of them being a passing mention of the dangers associated with instability in the personal lives of political actors. Later, on hearing the news from Nagi Island, it became apparent to me how easily I could generate stability in at least one respect by accelerating the marriage preparations. This would fulfil both my own needs as sudden clan head and my responsibility for Keiko's welfare, all while drawing on no more resources than had already been earmarked for the purpose.
"Then Mori visited me two days ago and a number of things became clear. Naturally, I was overjoyed to welcome her as a wedding guest, and keen to accept her request that we keep her attendance a surprise so as not to risk distracting Keiko while she was engaged in urgent preparations. Needless to say, there was also no need to alter the wedding date. May I please return to my guard duty?"
"Go for it," Ami grinned. She looked back to Kei. "There's a lot going on in Mist right now, and I really should be fulfilling my duties and getting back as soon as I can. Trouble is, apparently Leaf has more than one strong candidate for the hat, and the funeral can't take place until there's a new Hokage, so either way I'm going to have to kill some time here. Any cultural revolutions you want to introduce, any secret societies you want to found, I'm your gal.
"Oh, yeah," she said, "I should introduce my official escort. Yūichi, come meet my sister!"
An awkward-looking young man, perhaps a couple of years older than Kei, shuffled past Shikamaru.
"Yūichi here's been assigned to make sure I don't get into trouble."
Yūichi bowed. "It is an honour to meet you, Lady Gō—Lady Nara."
"This guy has a great backstory," Ami said. "Yūichi's a proud representative of the Shimura Clan, which used to be one of the great Fire Country clans until their allies betrayed them and they were nearly wiped out late in the Warring Clans period. The First Hokage shunned them because they were such a small clan, but their fortunes soared under the Second, who recognised their unique talents. At first, the Third continued the trend, and Yūichi's step-grandfather and clan leader was right about to expand the family business when he died in a tragic accident."
"Yes," Yūichi said slowly. "A tragic accident."
"One moment," Kei said. "It was my understanding that Shimura Danzō was the last scion of the Shimura Clan."
"Oh, he was," Yūichi agreed, straightening his spine like an abandoned puppet coming alive. "He never adopted anyone because he preferred a loose network where none of our parents had legal connections with each other. Unfortunately his will mysteriously disappeared in the tragic accident, so if he was lining one of them up to be his successor, we'll never know.
"But in the end, that's not what matters. Grandfather's the one who reached out to us common-borns and gave us a chance to be something more. Even if he's dead, even if the Third Hokage turned his back on us and allowed the clan to be dissolved, we will always be loyal to Grandfather's ideals."
"Don't forget the thing," Ami helpfully advised him.
"That's right," Yūichi said. "Lady Ami pointed out that now the Fifth has set the precedent for common-borns founding new clans, there's no legal reason for us all not to come together as the new Shimura. As a special favour, she's even willing to go over the basics of running a clan with us before she goes home."
"I told you, it's just Ami to friends," Ami said. "I'm no clan bigshot back home. If anything, I'm hovering around the edges of the system—they won't pull me in and they can't kick me out. They only sent me here because the Mizukage wanted to get me out of her hair. Funny how fate sometimes draws people together, huh?"
"A source of never-ending entertainment," Kei observed in a deadpan voice.
"Sure is. I figured I'd look around the mission office while I was waiting for all the diplomats to be ready to receive me, and I took the chance to chat with a bunch of ninja, and it just so happened that Yūichi was hanging around trying to find a chūnin-level mission that hadn't already been assigned to clan ninja. So when the diplomatic staff were trying to pick my official escort, I asked them to specifically not assign that free chūnin downstairs who made me feel uncomfortable because he kept watching me like a hawk the whole time I was there."
Ami winked at Yūichi.
"But first things first."
She stepped over and gave Kei the most affectionate of all possible hugs. Kei melted into her arms. Safety. Love. Trust. Something real in a world of uncertainty and lies. In the back of her mind, Kei was already wondering how to persuade Ami to join the Nara.
She thought of Tenten. Did anyone ever hug her? Did anyone ever make her feel safe, loved, trusted, with a touch? If it was possible for her to share with Tenten what Ami shared with her, then she would keep trying till the end of time.
Ami stepped back. "Now I'd love to catch up with you, and I promise I will, but I've got a prior engagement, and there's ever so much to do. Keiko, after whatever happened last night—c'mon, runt, I only needed to see how you were looking at your family—I'm assuming you're heading straight to the Nara compound? I'll drop by soon enough.
"You ready to go, Yūichi?"
"I am at your service, Ami."
With that, Ami skipped off, Yūichi obediently following her like a dog following its master.
Kei could have commented that this did not bode well, but she had resigned herself to Leaf's destruction the moment she saw that smile in the audience.
-o-
You have arbitrarily received 4 XP.
-o-
What do you do?
Voting ends on Saturday 25th of May, 9 a.m. New York Time.
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Chapter 267: Thoughtful Wandering and Wandering Thoughts
"Welcome!" Mari said, smiling at the mill owner. He stood at the head of a squad of heavily-muscled workmen pulling two carts, each stacked high with square-cut lumber. The mill owner was thoroughly bundled up against the cold and still shivered; clearly, he was not used to going out on delivery calls and would not have been here without the specific request she had made when she placed the lumber order.
The expensive and completely unnecessary lumber order. Sometimes, you had to spend money to make money. (Also, lie, cheat, and manipulate. Fortunately, that didn't matter anymore.)
"Good morning, Lady Gōketsu," the mill owner said. He wiped at his nose with a handkerchief before continuing. "Where would you like us to put the delivery?"
"Oh, just around the—" She paused, frowning, and stepped closer to the wagon. "I'm sorry, it seems this is all cut 4x4, but we needed—" She paused, thinking. ""Oh, Sage. I did say 4x4. I'm so sorry; we actually needed it to be 2x4." She shook her head, years of practice allowing her to feign embarrassment with perfect fidelity. "I'm so sorry. How stupid of me."
The workmen were being completely stone-faced; they were accustomed to delivering to fussy and overly sensitive ninja clans, and they knew perfectly well not to seem even slightly disapproving of a customer's stupidity. The mill owner, not normally going on deliveries, was not accustomed to directly dealing with ninja customers; a flicker of annoyance crossed his face before he locked it down.
"I'm sure it was my fault," he said unctuously. "I apologize most profusely. I'm a terribly forgetful fool and I am so sorry for wasting your time. With your permission, we'll take it back to the mill for recutting. I should be able to deliver it late tomorrow."
"Oh, I couldn't possibly waste your time!" Mari said. "Would you mind recutting it here? I'm happy to pay for your efforts."
The mill owner's eyes flicked from side to side like a rabbit looking for an escape. "Lady Gōketsu...we don't have tools with us, and even if you have some here, cutting with handsaws would take significantly longer than taking it back and forth to the mill."
"Oh, that won't be a problem," said Mari, waving a hand airily. "We can do it right here." She turned and surveyed the lawn to the left of the gate, mentally superimposing today's version of Kagome's map of the defenses over what she could see. Kagome had, as always, come out last night with his implosion bombs, storage seals, and a shovel to clear off the snow. ("Can't let the stinkers waterwalk across the defenses on the snow, or let the snow show where things are!") As intended, it made it harder to identify where things were, but she had prepared for this.
"Just bring it here," she said. "Carefully, please. Follow me precisely." She paced towards the house, then pulled a wooden dowel from within her robe and waved it back and forth as she stepped onto the lawn. (Mentally, she bet herself fifty ryō that none of the men would think to ask why she was carrying such a thing.) She walked forward towards one of the various large rocks, 'ornamental' statues, low 'decorative' walls, and giant 'KEEP OUT!' placards that were strewn around with somewhat tasteless frequency. Half a dozen steps in, the stick thumped into a solid barrier just above the head of a stone tentacular horror. A sliver of the stick fell away, sliced clear by the infinitely sharp edge of a Force Wall.
"There's a sharp edge here," she said, pointing. "If you wouldn't mind running the boards through it?" She lowered the stick to the ground and used it to carefully trace the location of the Wall, then stepped to the side and casually waved the stick, holding it between thumb and finger. It struck empty air and was sliced cleanly in half.
The mill owner and all twelve of his minions were staring in shock.
"What...Your Ladyship, what is that?"
Mari raised her eyebrows in surprise and glanced back and forth from the man to the lethal trap. "It's a Force Wall seal, of course," she said, as though observing that the sun was in the sky. "Part of the house defenses." She laughed. "Kagome will be so angry with me for revealing its location. I'm sure he'll promptly move it somewhere else." She turned and looked at the seal consideringly. "Actually, he may need to replace it entirely. They only last eight hours or so." Actually, they lasted twelve, but there was no reason to give out information on the defenses that she didn't have to. If she ended up selling to the man she could tell him they had created an improved version just for him. Or simply smile apologetically and admit the truth. Either one.
"Could...." He stopped, getting his brain back in gear, and then took a deep breath to gather his courage. "Please forgive me if this request is inappropriate, Your Ladyship. I am but a simple miller and I lack knowledge of the proprieties. Is there any possible way that I could purchase some of those from your most honorable self? It would be tremendously useful for a lumber mill such as mine."
"I don't see why not. Kagome keeps a few on hand, and I'd be happy to—" Mari stopped and shaped her carefully-trained face into sadness. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'd be happy to sell them—in fact, the family has been looking for new revenue streams, or even businesses that we could invest in. We had thought that we could take a small interest in the business and then supply the seals for free but, unfortunately, we aren't allowed to do that. Merchant Council rules, you know. And I can't sell you the seals because we're only licensed to sell them to the Tower." She 'thought' for a moment. "What we could do is to notify you in advance when we're going to sell them. If you happen to be at the Tower at the same time that we hand them in then you could immediately offer to buy them. That way you wouldn't need to worry about availability or someone else buying them up first." She shrugged. "Although, I admit that I don't know if they're making them available for civilian purchase or reserving them for military use."
"I see," the man said slowly. "That would be very helpful, thank you."
"Excellent! We'll be taking a shipment over tomorrow at noon." At least, now they would. "Shall I send someone to collect you beforehand?"
The mill owner gaped and bowed, deeply and repeatedly. "Your Ladyship is far too kind! Thank you so much! No, that won't be necessary. I'll meet you at your gates at noon, if you'll allow it?"
Cue the dimples. "Of course. Thank you so much for your understanding. I would sell them direct if I could but...." Shrug in mild embarrassment. Discreetly check for effect...good. He would be waiting at the gates by sunrise or her name wasn't Heartbreaker.
"Of course, of course. Thank you. Here, let us get those boards cut for you."
"Thank you. I'll just mark the safe path for you. Please don't step off of it; Kagome is extremely thorough with his defensive emplacements. Then I'll run inside and get some hot tea and a bonus for all your efforts."
She scratched barely-visible parallel lines in the frozen dirt to mark where it was safe to step, then gave them a smile and a nod (carefully calculated: friendly yet aloof, an acknowledgement from a woman of superior station to her social inferiors, yet with kindly intent) before heading up the main driveway to the house. She took care to put the tiniest bit of sway in her walk; not enough to seem like she was doing it on purpose, just enough to make the men nervous about entertaining thoughts that could get them executed. Men were easier to manage when they were slightly aroused and slightly nervous, and it left them positively inclined to you in the future.
She would need to be sure they moved efficiently and cleared out. In two hours the owner of a furniture repair shop would be coming to pick up a heavy armoire; wouldn't he be surprised when she popped it in a storage scroll and told him to just rip the thing open when he got back to the shop? He would undoubtedly be interested to know that the Gōketsu considered storage scrolls almost worthless and were more than happy to sell them for pennies...although, most unfortunately, their Merchant Council license only allowed her to sell two more this month. Still, she'd be happy to send someone by to store any particularly heavy items that he needed to deliver (warning of the need for protective wrappings, of course), and was he by any chance looking for an investor?
She sighed in annoyance as she went through the doors of the house and headed for the kitchen where the tea and bonus money were waiting. Salvaging the clan's finances after Keiko's explosive announcement was a distraction from what actually mattered right now: politics. Still, she should be able to get back to it soon.
Of course, Hazō was undoubtedly going to want to Talk About What Happened. She should put some thought in on how to handle that conversation.
o-o-o-o
Hazō leaned back in his chair on the back porch, carefully arranging the fur blanket over himself to shield him from the freezing snap in the air. The porch fireplace was roaring, so the left side of his face was toasty while the right was being nipped by winter spirits. He had a hot mug of three-parts-tea-to-one-part-honey in hand and his feet up on the not-intended-for-feet sidetable; the world was about as good as it could be today.
He gazed thoughtfully across the heavily overgrown jungle that was the Gōketsu back lawn. There wasn't enough manpower in the clan to do the work of clearing it themselves and until now there had been more critical things to spend the money on than tending to a segment of the grounds that no one except family would ever see. Besides, Kagome got nervous at the thought of random people wandering around on the property, and the thought that he would have had to take down the defenses so that gardeners could work was almost enough to send him into a panic attack. And it wasn't critical; the threat matrix remained fairly low as long as someone went out and tossed a few hundred explosives around every week or so.
Mari-sen...Mari was out and about, hustling out of the house in the morning with a muffin in one hand while muttering something about money being the immediate concern but politics being the important one so why didn't Hazō think about that?
So, here he was, thinking about that.
The Hagoromo clan seemed like a good place to start. From what everyone had said, the Hagoromo were going to vote Hyūga for the Hokage's hat, but only because the Hyūga held debt markers against them and wielded those markers like a club. If there were some way to clear that debt, the Hagoromo would likely vote against their former debt-holders just from spite.
Two days ago, Hazō would simply have reached out to them and offered a loan. The money from the Pangolins had been enough to cover Gōketsu's substantial expenses, provide a major amount of spending money for each member of the clan, fund a massive intelligence dragnet in the search for Naruto, and still put a small amount of money aside. The money freed up after Naruto's return would have made Gōketsu a powerhouse, but now that Keiko had cut off the supply....
The key thing was the lack of information. What exactly were the debts? What were the repayment terms? Was there an option to buy the debt off for a lump sum, or would it be an ongoing expense that could potentially cause problems if there was ever a cash flow issue? He needed more data.
Hazō took a sip of his tea, enjoying the taste of the honey, as he pondered where to get the aforementioned data. The Hagoromo wouldn't tell him just for asking, of course. He could send Mari to find it out, but she was busy with more immediate things. No, this would probably be a good excuse for Hazō to get outside and do something useful himself. It was an incredible relief; a meaningful task that kept him busy for a few hours during which he didn't have to dwell on the responsibilities of Clan Headship? Sounded like a great plan. He couldn't be seen doing it, of course. No, he'd grab his old disguise kit and....
Where was his disguise kit, anyway?
He found he couldn't remember, so he opened up the oilskin pouch strapped to his belt and flipped through all the storage seals he was carrying; between them they contained essentially everything he owned aside from his bed and a few commonly-used items, so the disguise kit virtually had to be in there.
Teriyaki chicken noodles with hot teapot and honeycake. Two loaves of bread straight from the oven, plus a tub of butter and a jar of marmalade. Dirty laundry. Dirty laundry. Dirty laundry. (He really should get those taken care of.) Dress clothes. Books, including that old math book he kept meaning to read. Grappling hooks, kunai, and other assorted ninja equipment. Tent and camping gear. Twelve dead squirrels with their bloodsucking fur removed....
Huh.
There was no disguise kit anywhere. Come to think of it, he couldn't remember the last time or place he'd had it. Or even what it looked like. Weird.
Anyway, he would need to find out how the Hagoromo made their money, since that would be the clearest indicator of where they owed it. He could ask around among the Leaf goldsmiths, see if the Hagoromo kept an account outside their compound. Although the goldsmiths probably wouldn't want to talk about such things, even to a Clan Head. Especially not if said Clan Head was a teenager. Ordinarily he would send Keiko to terrify them into disclosure, but she was a Nara now. He could send Mari to find it out, but she was busy with more immediate things. No, this would probably be a good excuse for Hazō to get outside and do something useful himself. It was an incredible relief; a meaningful task that kept him busy enough so he didn't have to dwell on the responsibilities of Clan Headship sounded like a great plan. He'd grab his old disguise kit and—
Where was his disguise kit, anyway?
He found he couldn't remember, so he opened up the oilskin pouch strapped to his belt...except it was already open and he was holding its contents? Wow, he was getting dementia before the age of sixteen!
He chuckled to himself and flipped through the seals. Teriyaki chicken noodles with hot teapot and honeycake. Two loaves of bread straight from the oven, plus a tub of butter and a jar of marmalade. Dirty laundry. Dirty laundry. Dirty laundry. (He really should get those taken care of.) Dress clothes. Books, including that old math book he kept meaning to read. Grappling hooks, kunai, and other assorted ninja equipment. Tent and camping gear. Twelve dead squirrels with their bloodsucking fur removed....
Huh.
There was no disguise kit anywhere. Come to think of it, he couldn't remember the last time or place he'd had it. Or even what it looked like. Weird.
A frisson of deja vu made the world feel momentarily off-balance. He shook the feeling away and checked the seals again. Yup, he'd counted correctly the first time; he did in fact have three full bags of dirty laundry, meaning no clean clothes for tomorrow. He tucked the seals back in his belt pouch with a sigh. He should drop the dirty clothes off at the laundry and pick up a couple more days of clean clothes when he went out to...to...why had he been intending to go out again?
A puff of wind blew past, making him hunch down into the toasty warmth of his furs. This was nice; sitting outside on a shivering cold day, wrapped up in Kagome-sensei's warm fur blankets while the weak winter sunlight dazzled off the snow.
He really should be doing something useful, though. There was so much going on right now, and the clan was not in a good position. Politically, Hyūga was their enemy and looked to be a lock for the Hokage's hat which, if Jiraiya's analysis was to be trusted, spelled the end of the Gōketsu. The Gōketsu / ISC relationship was unclear but, based on what Shikamaru had said, not nearly as solid as Hazō had thought. They had no other significant allies among the Leaf clans. Financially, they were in serious trouble after Keiko's announcement that the Pangolin deal was cut off. Two days ago, they were golden; the money from the Pangolins had been enough to cover Gōketsu's substantial expenses, provide a major amount of spending money for each member of the clan, fund a massive intelligence dragnet in the search for Naruto, and still put a small amount of money aside. The money freed up after Naruto's return would have made Gōketsu a powerhouse, but now that Keiko had cut off the supply—
Deja vu gripped him for a moment but he shook it away, annoyed for letting himself get distracted.
Mari had said she was working on the money side of things, but it would still behoove Hazō to do some thinking on the subject. That and politics. Hyūga had a lock on the hat unless someone could pry a few votes loose. The Hagoromo might be a good first target for that. They were under Hyūga's thumb right now, but by all reports that was simply because the Hyūga owned debt markers against them. If those debts could be paid off then they would quite likely punch back in revenge.
The Gōketsu no longer had the income to allow simply paying off another clan's major loans, but possibly they could arrange to have a third party do it—perhaps the Nara? That would require knowing exactly what those debts were, of course. He'd want to be subtle about that; they needed the loss of Hagoromo's vote to be a surprise so that Hyūga thought he was sitting pretty and wouldn't spend effort on countervailing strategies. If Hyūga knew that the Gōketsu were nosing around the Hagoromo finances, it would defeat half the purpose. Which meant deciding who to send ferreting out that information: Mari was busy, Noburi was too distinctive, Keiko was now a Nara, Akane was too forthright to make a good spy, and Kagome-sensei was Kagome-sensei. No, Hazō would have to do the investigating himself. Which, honestly, sounded great—something that would let him get out and moving would be a lovely break from the stress of being a Clan Head. He should put on a disguise to prevent word getting back to Hyūga.
Where was his disguise kit, anyway?
He reached for his belt pouch in order to check his storage seals, but moved a little too fast and slopped hot and heavily-honeyed tea all over his hand and wrist.
"Ouch! Damnit!" He sucked on the lightly-scorched skin, then reluctantly clambered out of the comfortable nest of blankets. He needed to go wash off or he'd be feeling sticky for hours. He could think about clan finances another time.
XP AWARD: 3
Vote time! What to do now?
Voting ends on Wednesday, May 29, 2019, at 12pm London time.
Kei froze in place like a small animal suddenly coming to the attention of a deadly predator. She had been so close to making her escape. Ami had even managed to clear away the unbearable crowd of guests (though, in time, Kei would have her vengeance for the means involved, namely loudly requesting of every single person she knew in Leaf that they "clear a path so that the happy couple can rush home to consummate their marriage").
To think that she had almost succeeded in reaching the unfamiliar yet hereafter loyal ramparts of the Nara compound uncaught…
Instead, she would receive the punishment she was due.
To Hazō and Kei's equal surprise, Shikamaru stepped between them. "Gōketsu, trust your general motivations though I may, it is also incumbent upon me to defend my wife when she is in distress. If, as is implied by her demeanour, she is disinclined to speak with you, then I invite you to wait until she visits you of her own accord, or communicate via messenger at her leisure."
They both stared at Shikamaru, jaws figuratively dropped.
"We all have to grow up sometime."
Kei did not recognise this Shikamaru. It was as if she were facing an alien being, a shadow of the youth with whom she had partaken of so many instances of two individuals spending a day together in order to facilitate greater mutual knowledge and familiarity, arranged in anticipation of a potential long-term relationship.
It struck her like a thunderbolt. This was the long-term relationship. This was the purpose of the greater mutual knowledge and familiarity. It was that Shikamaru who was the shadow, had always been intended to be the shadow, of the man who would take her for his wife. Their friendship had been no more than a happy accident to the powers that be, Jiraiya and Lord Nara—Lord Shikaku—being first among their number.
"This is the burden you've been signed up for, Keiko," Shikamaru said with an ironic smile. "The burden of agency. The burden of control."
"Keiko," Hazō said insistently, "it's not like I'm here to fight. I just want to talk to you about the other night like we always do. Like two adults who can come to a mutual understanding. I'll go away if you want me to, but you and I both know it'll only make things worse."
Shikamaru looked to Kei. "It's your decision, Keiko. It always will be."
Kei stood still for a while. The wind, mercifully absent during the ceremony earlier, was returning with force. Whichever choice she made, it would have to be soon, before her hair was ruined, and thence her first impression before her new clan. This was the kind of sophisticated analysis she found her mind occupied with as she contemplated her future relationship with her family.
"Very well," she said finally. The confrontation could not be escaped forever. "Shikamaru, would you be able to provide the two of us with a private room?"
"We have them by the dozen," Shikamaru said, relaxing. "Our clansmen often find themselves with fascinating ideas in need of discussion, yet are easily drained by group interaction. The rooms themselves are redecorated in annual competitions—my favourite, to which we shall now proceed, being notable for its lifelike water fountain theme."
-o-
Shikamaru closed the door, leaving her alone with Hazō. Kei could hear him attach one of the painted wooden signs to the door, in this case probably the yellow one for "sensitive discussion in progress", as opposed to the green "leisurely debate—tea would be appreciated" or the red "complex dynamics; do not disrupt" (Kei could feel herself turning a bright shade of crimson when Shikamaru quietly explained some of the uses of the latter).
What now? It seemed un-Hazō-like to pursue her merely to express his disgust at her behaviour. Besides, she was already aware that she had betrayed her family, allowing her petty defiance to undermine in a time of need the very people who had supported her all along. She remembered Hazō's reaction, his immediate, urgent attempt to save the clan from her folly before before Mari-sensei—
She could not express in words, could barely understand in memory, what she had experienced in those few minutes. Mari-sensei would never harm her. Indeed, Mari-sensei's kindness was the reason Kei was alive. Then why, in the aftermath, did she feel such terror on recalling Mari-sensei's gentle, sympathetic words? What would have happened to her within that wave of sudden psychological self-destruction had it not been for her violation at Tenten's hands?
"Keiko?"
"Do you hate me?" she asked simply. "Now that I have declared my intention to sabotage the clan for no better reason than my own selfishness? Have you come to tell me never to return?"
"Sage's ballsack, Keiko!" Hazō gave her the look of bottomless frustration he normally reserved for the work of that albino chakra fox that had apparently signed a non-intervention pact with Fifi. "Of course we want you to return. You're family. Family's family even when your father punches your mother through a wall and exiles her from the village!"
Kei raised an eyebrow.
"All right, so our family's a bit screwed up. But you get my point. People don't stop being family. That's not how it works.
"Now. There are some things I feel I should say to you, and given certain past... misunderstandings…"
"Still family?" Kei interrupted anxiously.
"Still family. I can get you a certificate to put on your wall if you like. Actually," Hazō said, "I'm pretty sure Jiraiya's adoption papers will qualify."
Kei had, in fact, not given any thought to how she would remodel her chambers. Would that even be an option, or was she to share a larger area with Shikamaru? She suspected there would be some symbolic nonsense involved if they were to declare their intent to sleep in separate rooms, but on the other hand she would rather swallow a pangolin than share a bed with anyone.
Either way, on reflection there would be little more bizarre than decorating the Nara consort's bedchamber with a symbol of her co-foundation of the Gōketsu.
"But why?" she asked insistently. "I am under no illusions regarding the harm I have willingly inflicted upon the clan. I have Mari-sensei to—Compared to that, the offence I have taken at your various actions in the past is but grains of sand on the beach."
"Keiko," Hazō said, "I think this is a good time for the Clear Communication Technique. I don't believe that the fact of last night's conflict should in any way change the relationship between us, nor between you and the other Gōketsu. I do believe that there was a failure of communication that we should address in order to achieve better mutual understanding and prevent such problems arising in the future.
"On my part, I should have made more of an effort to understand your mental state, and for that I apologise. You were emphatic and unambiguous regarding the decision you'd made, and I shouldn't have tried to override it based on my own preferences. It was inconsiderate and disrespectful of me.
"At the same time, I believe that this conflict could have been avoided in the first place had you presented your concerns earlier, and worked with us on finding a solution instead of holding it all in until you felt you had no choice but to present your decision as a rigid absolute. In the future, I will endeavour to treat your feelings with greater sensitivity, and make a greater effort to respect your decisions. On your part, I request that you trust us more when it comes to making difficult decisions so that we can support you and work together in finding the best possible outcome."
That… did not sound like the torrent of condemnation she believed her actions had earned. Even as he missed the point, Hazō was investing considerable effort into reconciliation, as if they somehow shared responsibility for last night's disaster. As if Mari-sensei had not—
"I remain confused," Kei said with the neutrality demanded by Clear Communication. "It was my premeditated decision to inflict grave injury upon the clan to which I owed loyalty. Given the immutability of that decision, which you have acknowledged, what would the benefit of cooperation have been?"
"We don't know," Hazō said. "That's part of my point. It's impossible to predict the consequences of an attempt to look for mutually beneficial solutions without actually making that attempt. For us to know whether such solutions existed would only be possible if you trusted us enough to find out together. It seems to me as if you cut off your options in advance until you were left with only one visible path."
"I accept your point," Kei said reluctantly. As Hazō said, this whole chain of events resulted from a failure of communication on her part, both yesterday and, as she had stated, for a long time indeed.
No, it occurred to her. Even if betraying her family was utterly unacceptable, even if the only proper response should have been to throw herself at their feet and beg for forgiveness as Mari-sensei—
"Hazō, I accept your apology in the spirit in which it was intended, and offer mine, though I am aware that the magnitude of our failures is incomparable, insofar as yours relates to a momentary response to my actions, whereas mine was prolonged and repeated. I recognise that my failure to communicate my needs in a timely fashion, and the resulting inaction on the part of others, is a recurring failure mode, and indeed what gave rise to this entire series of events in the first place. Had I been more persistent in expressing my feelings in regard to the Pangolin war over the last several months, you might have responded in time, leading to joint pursuit of a better solution. By the same token, I should have recognised my own culpability in your planning to sell more weapons to the Seventh Path, which doubtless you would not have had I properly communicated my concerns to you in the first place. As it is, I drastically overreacted, and allowed the experience to be the tipping point for a catastrophic decision."
"Keiko," Hazō said after looking briefly between the table and the wall, "I am not questioning your decision. There is no question that you have the right to make important decisions. I am not asking for an apology for anything at all whatsoever. I am not asking you to justify your actions or lack of action. I'm just asking you to trust us enough to get our help with your important decisions so they have the best outcomes they can. Do you understand?"
Kei shook her head. "You deserve an apology for everything whatsoever. Even if you do not request it, the responsibility for last night's events is mine and mine alone. I inflicted grave suffering upon my family, and had it not been for Mari-sensei—"
She began again. "No, I realise what central issue you are unaware of. Hazō, I chose not to trust you. I was afraid that if I consulted you and the others, you might apply logical argument to persuade me out of what was ultimately a selfish, irrational decision. Then I would be left trapped with no recourse. That act of distrust goes beyond what you have described, and beyond the bonds of family."
"Keiko, why must you always—no, Clear Communication Technique. Keiko, sometimes it sounds to me like you are looking for any excuse possible to blame yourself. This is one of those times. We were all surprised. Some of us, by which I mean me, reacted poorly in the shock of the moment, and I regret my actions and will strive to do better in the future. None of us feel betrayed, and none of us, even though we know how you think and what you've done, want to punish you or for you to punish yourself. Please don't. If you think there are things you could have done better, then next time, do them better. If you're not sure you can, then, again, please trust us enough to seek our help."
It would have been frustrating enough if he had insisted she could be forgiven. To claim that her actions did not require forgiveness in the first place, after she had seen the depth of her sin in Mari-sensei's—
"Keiko, none of us blame you," Hazō interrupted her train of thought. "None of us object to your decision, and none of us think the way you handled it reflects on your character in any way. We all accept that this was the best decision you believed you could make, and now that you've made it, we want to support you in dealing with the consequences, whatever those might turn out to be. There might have been some miscommunication at the time, and you had better believe I'll deal with that when I've got a chance, but all I am actually asking for is your cooperation if things like this come up in the future. Are you prepared to do that?"
Kei nodded unsteadily. "No eternal banishment for unforgivable betrayal?" she confirmed.
"No." Hazō smiled. "I could hit you with a rolled-up broadsheet if it would make you feel better."
"Please."
-o-
Having changed the sign on the door to "green", and been generously provided with tea as per the relevant colour, Kei and Hazō moved on to conversation of a less heart-rending nature.
"Indeed," Kei said, gazing abstractedly at one of the fountain paintings. "How they could hold a wedding ceremony without a single shark involved is beyond me. I had previously assumed that Yagura's claims about foreign barbarism in My Vision were wilful exaggerations, but between the lack of shark and the clockwise juggling, I am beginning to wonder if I would have been better off having Ami arrange our wedding in Mist rather than Leaf."
"That's what was wrong!" Hazō exclaimed. "They were juggling clockwise! And to think, after all that stuff about auspicious and inauspicious days…
"Wait," he said in the tone of a man suddenly realising that he was not, in fact, suffering from a lack of shark, "I think I must have misheard. Did you just imply that Mori arranged your wedding?"
Kei gave a matter-of-fact nod, as if she had not been equally stunned mere hours earlier. "She manipulated Shikamaru into accelerating the wedding while we were still in Mist, then promptly came to Leaf and ensured that it would not be delayed by our own plans to secure her presence. She was last seen subverting her Leaf minder."
"Please confirm, Keiko," Hazō said urgently. "Your sister still has no ambitions of becoming a Kage, right?"
"Not at all. Or at least, she did not last week, which says less than you might hope.
"Of course," Kei added thoughtfully, "while I doubt she could lay sufficient groundwork in time to become Hokage in the coming elections, history is not without precedent for puppet rulers, which I imagine to be your aunt's ultimate fate, or perhaps her successor's."
Hazō swallowed most of his cup of tea in a single gulp. "Keiko, I need your sister at our compound yesterday."
"Do not tempt fate while the world contains space-time ninjutsu users," Kei advised him.
"I think fate already has it in for me," Hazō said, rising from his seat. "Tell Shikamaru that I entrust my beloved sister to his care, and also that I have not forgotten him lying to me about the wedding. Order of your choice."
-o-
The earlier wind had changed into a full-scale thunderstorm, lightning crackling in the background like an omen of unpredictable yet precise destruction (or Ami, as she was frequently known). In the Water Country, those who did not know Ami considered thunderstorms to be battles of the gods, as the Guardian Dragons of the Depths rose into the heavens to do battle with invading foreign spirits. In the Fire Country, in a rare touch of premodern religion, it was the dance of the fire kami, each seeking to outdo the rest in prowess, with no concern for the welfare of the lands below.
To the Nara, or at least these Nara, it was a perfect setting for an intimate gaming night.
"My missing-nin flee to Iron," Kei said, sliding the figures across the Focused Dominance game board.
"Roll the dice, beloved wife," Shikamaru said with a touch of mischief in his voice.
The appellation remained enough of a system shock that Kei's fingers slipped, sending the dice rocketing off the table to bounce off the partition between the Kei and Shikamaru portions of the chamber (a temporary solution pending less embarrassed negotiation; they were desperately procrastinating over the issue of asking servants to bring an extra bed on their wedding night).
"You must acclimatise yourself, Keiko. Your formal introduction to the clan beckons, and you cannot display authority as the Nara consort if you allow the people in your care to be"—he looked down at the dice— " devoured by chakra sheep every time you hear a reference to our new marital status."
"Fear not… beloved…" She would say it another time. Eventually. "If to promote uncontrollable trembling is our aim, I have some fascinating ideas which I felt it would be excessively cruel to test on Hazō. Where do you stand on the unconventional use of kitchen appliances?"
"So about those chakra sheep…" Shikamaru said quickly.
-o-
"Yesterday," Shikamaru said while wrangling the servants with regard to furniture, "your Gōketsu family proved that they were…" a full second's pause, "original and creative thinkers with currently limited awareness of the broader consequences of their actions, certainly as far as Leaf's laws, traditions and general political environment are concerned. I firmly encourage you to assist them in overcoming the dangers they have courageously chosen to face, subject to the conditions found in your welcome pack. No, we will not be requiring the special silk sheets, thank you."
Kei did not hear that last sentence. The words did not enter her ears at any point. She was far too focused on reading the Nara Consort Welcome Pack, and any other possibility was nothing less than absurd.
Consort Rule A: You take orders from me and no one else, and carry them out to the best of your ability in both letter and spirit.
Self-explanatory, Kei felt. The rule that defined the relationship between Clan Head and their subordinates. She was forced to admit it chafed. In her Mori life, she had received few orders from her superiors since they seldom deigned to acknowledge her existence, much less the competence to contribute to clan affairs. In her Team Uplift life, she had been an independent agent, if one without agency, with her opinions theoretically standing equal to her teammates'.
Then came submission to Jiraiya, which, despite her distrust of him, felt natural from a clan structure sense. A powerful patriarch guiding the clan with his decades of experience, if erratically (the obsessive search for Naruto, the primitive, violent seizing of the Hokage hat, the deadlocked negotiations that could have been swiftly resolved had he either leveraged his pride or swallowed it); a man who had earned her respect, and perhaps a modicum of affection that she had accepted too late.
Then came submission to Hazō. It was mandated. Necessary, insofar as he was the best candidate at hand (though, privately, she questioned why he should not merely be regent until Mari-sensei recovered). She understood why he needed to have ultimate decision-making and veto power. She also understood that, even before her transition to the Nara, the bond of equals they had once possessed had been eroded forever.
Now, finally, her fate was set in stone. She should feel no resentment at what had been, ultimately, the best decision for everyone involved.
But if Consort Rule A re-established the natural law of clan shinobi life, Consort Rule B overwhelmed her.
"Consort Rule B: I trust your judgement to ignore Rule A where it is necessary for the benefit of the clan. If you do, present a detailed account afterwards and be prepared to justify your actions.
These two rules supersede all others, including those listed below.
For all that was lost to Kei, she was a Nara now. The sane clan.
She was, at least nominally, second-in-command of the sane clan.
She possessed, by enshrined clan law, the second highest degree of agency within the sane clan.
She hastened on, because surely there was some trap concealed within the rules that would send her plummeting back into the familiar status quo.
You may spend time with the Gōketsu at your own discretion, and advise them as necessary, or seek to maintain social ties, insofar as doing so does not conflict with the other conditions.
Shrug. The encouragement was encouraging in its own way (there were clans that might have felt otherwise), but Shikamaru would learn much of her creative side if he ever attempted to ban her from seeing her family.
You are outside the Gōketsu chain of command. Ignore any attempts to give you orders.
Rational. A woman could not have two masters. Precedent established that those who made the attempt typically did not contain enough blood for practical purposes.
You will not allow this to interfere with your Nara duties, such as catching up on Nara logistics training, nor with carrying out other orders.
Nara logistics training. The Gōketsu could surely manage without her most of the time.
You will not take any action, or share any information, that might interfere with Nara interests or give the Gōketsu advantage over the Nara, no matter how trivial it may be. Err on the side of caution.
Maintain OPSEC on issues not directly pertaining to your personal life or the non-specific experience of life with the Nara. Again, I trust your judgement in determining what qualifies.
Warn them when they are at risk of competing with the Nara. We don't want unnecessary friction in the relationship.
The core challenge of being a political wife. In return for unhindered personal access to both clans' people, land, and resources (where not specifically banned), Kei would be forced to juggle a delicate balance of loyalties if she wanted to maintain her connection to the Gōketsu side. If that balance failed and the Nara decided she was acting to sabotage them, it would be considered proper justification to sever the alliance, regardless of prior commitments.
"Beloved wife," Shikamaru called out, causing her to drop the welcome pack. "I have explained to the servants that your barbaric national customs require us to sleep in separate beds during the first stages of the marriage, and that I am respecting them just as you proved your unquestionable respect for Leaf's superior way of life during the wedding. I should inform you in advance that I have a list of other such customs, which I may have to accidentally let slip should I be threatened with grievous bodily harm in the future."
"Beloved husband, I cannot wait to experience the thrills of our married life." This time, there was no hesitation in Kei's voice.
-o-
Outside, in the blessed calm immediately after the storm, the flickering flames cast shadows out among the tangled trees that covered the Nara compound grounds, to merge with the shadows cast by torches and hanging lanterns. Their ever-shifting pattern would allegedly prove no less fatal than Kagome's trap arrays to anyone who attempted to approach uninvited (though she would never mention this to him—the way Kagome was already, the idea of him becoming involved in an arms race made her want to flee to some peaceful, quiet corner of Bear Country). Kei wrapped the heavy Nara-crested blanket a little more tightly around her shoulders at the thought.
"A thought occurs to me…" Shikamaru said, gazing out at the horizon as his shadow whipped out behind him to slide a platter with a teapot and steaming cups between them, not spilling a drop.
"There is no need to try to impress me," Kei observed with some amusement. "I am given to understand, from certain sources I would sooner not disclose, that such things are usually performed as part of courting. Ours, I believe, is already concluded, having mostly consisted of fleeing giant monsters, being fed food so horrendous it must already have passed into legend, composing legendarily dire poetry, and playing a number of board games. Granted, one of those was largely tolerable."
Shikamaru gave a sagely nod. "I learned a number of new words from the poetry."
"For my part, it was the food. Everything I have tasted since that day has been a sublime festival for my tongue."
"Then perhaps the same could be said of this tea?" Shikamaru said with a touch of mischief.
"Well, yes," Kei said, examining the teapot with renewed suspicion. "Not an unpleasant blend, perhaps more floral than I might prefer, and I will admit to have developed something of a sweet tooth, in these magnificent days of freely-available hot chocolate, that renders me a little less satisfied by green tea of the ordinary kind."
"I shall be sure to pass your approval to Shiori," Shikamaru drawled.
Kei slowly, carefully returned the cup to the table as if it might explode on careless contact.
"Are you implying that this is her blend?"
"Recommended by her for newlyweds."
Kei barely managed not to spit her mouthful of tea into the fire, but at the cost of inhaling half of it.
Shikamaru smirked at her reaction.
"Shikamaru," she said through gritted teeth once she recovered. "You do understand the purpose served by special tea for newlyweds?"
"Oh." Shikamaru turned pale. "Much is explained."
"If you are feeling what I imagine you are feeling," Kei said with deathly coldness, "then please consider this to be the first threat of grievous bodily harm to grace this marriage."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Shikamaru waved his hands urgently. "In fact, the possibility never occurred to me. Which is not to say I considered it to be a possibility, only that as a Nara I would instinctively explore all the possible paths of I'll shut up now.
"If it's any consolation," he said after a while of awkward silence, "I suspect Shiori was merely playing a prank, and did not realise that she was inciting us to—"
"Say it and die."
"…and thus will be mortified when she realises the implications.
"But hurrying on from that subject which we never raised, and pouring the rest of the tea into those bushes over there, you must accept your new position here quickly, or the elders will eat you for lunch. Doubly so should we inevitably come under question with regard to handling the… complexities… of our relationship."
"Her name is Tenten," Kei growled.
"I am including Shiori, who counts as a complexity if anyone does, and so the non-specific plural is appropriate," Shikamaru riposted.
"I accept your deft use of language," Kei said. "However, it would appear to me that we can handle Tenten and Shiori without difficulty."
Closed eyes. Heartbeat so rapid as to be almost solid. An impossible weight on her sleeve, tiny centimetres from the skin…
"Without meaning to delve into your relationship with Tenten," Shikamaru said, mercifully oblivious, "Shiori is remarkably straightforward as young women go. As long as we establish clear communication, which I do not imagine will be difficult at all, that element of whatever incomprehensible mess we are now in should be comparatively easy to deal with."
Kei nodded. She vaguely recalled some kind of misunderstanding involving Shiori, but given how little she remembered, it had probably not been anything important.
"No, the problem lies elsewhere, and is far more grave than any of this," Shikamaru said.
Kei tensed.
"In order to sort out the logistics, we'll have to consult my mother."
…
"To clarify, you wish to consult your mother on the management of our married life with regard to my secret lover and your entity of indeterminate romantic status."
"I prefer 'personal assistant'."
"Your mother," Kei repeated. "Lady Nara Yoshino, now my mother-in-law and as formidable a woman as Leaf has ever seen, known for her keen intellect and subtle but penetrating insight, as well as mastery of social skills to rival an infiltration specialist jōnin despite being a former civilian.
"This is the woman you wish to not merely give her seal of approval, but to aid in organising this 'incomprehensible mess' not merely arranged soon after, but in fact predating our crucial marriage. Shikamaru, I made certain not to consult Jiraiya regarding my love life lest I awaken to find it in smoking ruins. What makes you believe that I wish to leap all the way to the other end of the spectrum?"
"It's either that or blunder through the process while relying solely on our own judgement."
"…what hours does she keep?"
-o-
Lady Yoshino was regrettably (happily) unavailable, leaving the two to enjoy the darkness in what Kei could not deny was pleasant company. Amidst the swaying of the trees in the wind, amidst the glow of the fire pit and the mesmerising dance of the shadows… Shikamaru was no Tenten, yet there was a certain kind of peace in watching night descend with her best friend by her side.
"What time do you get up, beloved wife?"
She was not—
No, wait. She was. It was impossible, it made no sense, and yet she had a vivid mental image of exchanging vows: one for tradition, one for the person, one for the clan. Sacred, binding, and permanent, even without the shark. How had it come to this?
Nevertheless, denying reality was her specialisation. If she could trust in it just a little longer…
"I do have a name, you will recall. I trust its two syllables do not tax your mind beyond imagination?"
"I have four," Shikamaru said, "a form of torture inflicted on me by my father so as to build the fortitude I would one day need as heir. Can you imagine the fatigue inflicted by mere self-introduction in my early days?"
"My heart weeps for you, that you should have multiple people interested in learning your name during your childhood."
"That bad?"
"Indeed." Kei looked up at the dark but clear sky. "I have frequently felt that my sister and I are two halves of the same being. She is all of the light, and I am all of the shadow. We were treated accordingly."
Shikamaru sipped his hot chocolate (neither of them felt a burning desire for tea right now). "You realise, Keiko, that you are to spend the rest of your life as princess of a clan that treasures shadows and disdains the light?"
"I… am?"
"Nara feel no need to be seen. Nara feel no need to be known. While others are blinded by the light they reach for, Nara seek the secrets hidden in its shadow.
"You're the only person capable of understanding this to marry into the Nara Clan. When you think about the impossibility of it all, of the mindboggling implications for us, but especially of the children we will—"
"We are not having children," Kei said flatly.
"You realise that in your role as—"
"We are not having children."
"Keiko, don't you think you're being a little—"
"We are not having children."
Shikamaru sighed. "Yes, ma'am. We are not—"
"We are not having children."
"Keiko, I'm agreeing with you!"
"Good," Kei said calmly. "Because we are not having children."
There was a long pause. "Because all I was thinking was that, hypothetically, if we did—"
Kei calmly took her teacup and, without looking, collected some glowing charcoal from the fire pit. "Final warning."
"Un-Understood," Shikamaru said. "On a completely unrelated topic, it is unprecedented for two of the Five Clans to intermarry, and hence certain parties might be inclined to contemplate what the combination of… bloodlines… might result in. This being a purely academic question."
"Are the Nara in possession of a Bloodline Limit?" Kei asked with a frown. "One has never been mentioned when discussing the Ino-Shika-Chō, and I was under the assumption that all your abilities were simply secret techniques."
"Oh, dear," Shikamaru said, setting aside his remaining hot chocolate. Kei accepted his proposal of mutual disarmament, tipping the coals back where they belonged.
"You left the Mori as a genin, yes?"
"It hardly bears repeating."
"Then, how much do you know about the origins and purpose of the Mori Clan?" Shikamaru asked, simultaneously beckoning her indoors.
A bizarre question. Shikamaru must surely have learned this much information about his fiancée's clan during the Chūnin Exam.
Kei closed her eyes and began to recite by rote. "The Mori Clan was established by the man we know as Mori, one of the greatest warriors to fight by the Sage's side during mankind's earliest days. During the great battle with the last primordial monsters of this world, he sacrificed himself to protect the Sage from a lethal wound. Though the Sage sought to resurrect him, part of Mori's mind had already crossed to the Deva Path to receive its just reward. When Mori returned, the Sage wept, for the man who had saved his life was like unto a puppet, lacking all free will."
As she spoke, she could hear what sounded suspiciously like Shikamaru closing all the doors and windows to the room, which was not at all alarming.
"Unable to offer Mori the gratitude he deserved, the Sage instead commanded him to found his own clan. Then, when children were born to Mori and his ordinary wife, it was found that each one, though a great hero in his own right, shared a portion of their father's curse. Without the power to grant true free will, the Sage instead bestowed his own transcendental wisdom upon them, that instead of being guided by their flawed humanity, they be ever guided by the truth.
"Ever since, the Sage's gift has been known as the Frozen Skein, for it is a vessel for bottomless depths of truth— but as the truth never changes, so those who embrace it can never change."
"Elegant," Shikamaru conceded. "We have one of those as well. Anything else?"
"More of the same with more names and additional flourish, I believe," Kei said. "And theoretical debates over the origins of the name, which I never cared to acknowledge the existence of."
"So…" Shikamaru said slowly, "nothing about the Five rings any bells?"
"Not beyond the obvious. Five Elemental Nations, five Villages, five Kage."
Shikamaru looked away from her for a moment.
"Please find a comfortable seat, beloved wife, while I call for more Shiori-brand tea. I have a feeling that we'll be staying up for a while."
